


Late nights with you and homework

by cannibalpasta



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Feels, Bruce Has Issues, Bullying, Characters from IM3 and CA2 but no spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phil Is a Good Bro, Principal Nick Fury, Romance, Science Bros, Sexual Harassment, Slow Build, Tony Feels, Tony Has Issues, Violence, or it depends on what do you think is slow build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:31:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannibalpasta/pseuds/cannibalpasta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner has never been popular. It didn't change after entering high school, and it didn't change after the freshman year.</p><p>Bruce Banner has also never liked Tony Stark.</p><p>So, what happens, when Bruce and Tony are made to work together for a school project?</p><p> </p><p>High School AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Watch your step

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo! So this is my first fic about science boyfriends and I really hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> I also want to notify that this is unbeta read, and I'm not a native English speaker, so all typos all mine and you're free (and very welcome) to point them out if you find some. I'm also unfamiliar with US education system, so if I made any fatal errors there, please tell me, so I can sort that out.
> 
> But otherwise, thanks for stopping by!

Bruce Banner stepped into the corridor. The large space was cramped with students bouncing into different directions, greeting friends and bumping against each other. As always, it made Bruce feel suffocated, so he rushed the familiar path to his locker. It was his sophomore year, and he was already eagerly waiting for high school to be over. The reason for this was very simple, Bruce was the opposite of popular. With his worn-off clothes, book-worm reputation and quiet nature, he had easily become a target for bullies with no life. He also didn't have any friends, which made their job even easier.

"Bruce!" Well okay, he did have a few  _kind of_ friends. He turned to see Jane Foster walking towards him. They were in the same extracurricular activity club, a science club, but didn't really talk that much outside the club. Bruce didn't want to count Jane as a friend, because even though they were both sophomores, they were in different classes (Jane was in class D) and Jane had her own friends. He thought that one of them was called Darcy, but Bruce didn't really know her.

"Hi, Jane," he said and closed his locker. "What's up?" Jane smiled at him. 

"Well, I just wanted to remind you that the samples are ready to be taken out today. I already took a look, and seems that our experiment succeeded with flying colors!" Bruce felt smile tug at the corner of his mouth at that. They fell into a brief conversation about their experiment and hurried to their classes when the bell rang. Bruce's first class was history. He didn't actually like history, but it wasn't that bad. Afterwards was math and then English. Math was easy, but Bruce didn't enjoy English, because their teacher, Maria Hill, was so strict. But the light side of it was that no one dared to throw paper balls or anything like that at Bruce, in fear of a punishment.

Lunch break came then, and Bruce skidded to the cafeteria with his well-worn sneakers. Almost every table was already full, most of the football team in one (the captain, a junior Steve Rogers and his class mates Sam Wilson and Thor Odinson with their friends), Jane and her friends with some other class mates in one (Bruce couldn't help but notice Jane glancing at Odinson every now and then), the nerds in one (Bruce wasn't friends with even them), the emos (Thor Odinson's little brother, Loki Odinson, a sophomore from class C represented this genre, just so you know) in one and so on. Then there was the popular kids' table (well, the football team's table wasn't actually the unpopular kids' table either but...). There sat Aldrich Killian, a senior footballer, with a junior girl on his lap, James Barnes, a junior (a childhood friend with Rogers, by the way), his class mate Justin Hammer, and some other guys and girls. In the middle of them all sat Tony Stark, Bruce's class mate, so a sophomore like him. Bruce had never liked Tony Stark (not that he liked many people in general anyway). His dad owned the massive Stark Industries and Tony Stark was only a pampered rich kid from the uptown. But Bruce still had to admit, that Stark was freaking  _hot_. There weren't many girls (or guys, for the record) who didn't want to get between sheets with him, and probably even less who hadn't gotten at some point. Tony Stark was also a genius. He should already be out of college, but Bruce guessed he was just too lazy to skip years.

Bruce crossed a couple of tables (both occupied with sophomores like him, though they were from class A when Bruce was from class B. There sat Natasha Romanov, the captain of the martial arts club (and probably the hottest, and scariest, girl at school) and her boyfriend Clint Barton, the captain of the archery club in one table. No one else dared to sit with them and the couple seemed to enjoy their privacy. In the next table there sat Virginia Potts, James Rhodes and Harold Hogan, who were good friends of Tony Stark) before he settled in an empty one.

 

* * *

 

The following physics lesson was proceeding nicely. Bruce enjoyed physics and he was good at it, so he was in a fairly good mood. Until he heard what the teacher had to say, that is.

"So, today we are going to work in pairs," that alone made Bruce's skin crawl, he didn't have anyone he could even consider working with in his class. "and I'm going to choose the pairs," oh, much worse. He would most likely get someone who A) didn't like him B) made him do all the work. Bruce thought that the lesson couldn't get any worse when he saw the name of his and his partner being written on the blackboard with a delicate cursive.  _Bruce Banner and_ _Tony Stark._ _Tony FUCKING Stark._ Bruce usually didn't like swearing, but he couldn't help it. This could NOT lead into anything good. Bruce payed only half of his attention to the teacher who was frantically explaining to the complaining students that she had paired them according to their grades, so that no one had to do the work alone. The other half of his brain was trying to figure how to clear this mess. He did not want to work with Stark. It made him feel unworthy and inferior. He couldn't compete with money or fashion clothes or friends with anyone, but he always had his brain to compensate the inequality. But with Tony Stark, that wasn't something that only he had anymore. Stark was at least as intelligent as Bruce, maybe even more so. He also had friends, fortune and all that Bruce didn't. He was also the polar opposite to Bruce when it came to their personalities. Bruce was shy and quiet where Stark was arrogant and obstreperous, not to even mention social skills. Bruce was kind but Tony Stark seemed like a proper asshole.

So, you get why Bruce didn't want to be in any terms with Tony Stark. Bruce glanced around him and saw people rearranging seats to get near their partners. From the corner of his eye, he saw Stark too draw a chair from the desk next to Bruce's and slump into it.

"So, Bruce, right?" Stark started. "You probably know who I am, so let's just skip that." Bruce felt his scowl deepen and smoothed his face before turning to Stark.

"Yeah, I'd prefer Banner, actually," he said and looked into Stark's big, brown eyes.

"Oh, touchy, touchy," Stark said and smirked his trade-mark smile (though it looked a bit...bitter? for a second before Bruce blinked). "Okay then,  _Banner,_  what should we do about this project? Teach said that it needs some work outside school too, so where do we crash? My place, your place? Library?" he rambled. Bruce blinked and thought a bit, he didn't want Stark to see his crappy home (or Bruce's dad to see anymore teenagers in his household), nor did he want to visit the Stark mansion to see the plush way his class mate lived. So that left the library.

"Library?" he then offered. Stark nodded.

"That's settled then. So, what do you think, mechanic energy, movement or electromagnetism? If we take electromagnetism, we could do our project about magnetic fields or induction. And you know, I've been planning on some sort of a electromagnet, that could fit in your palm and still power a whole city and-"

"Wow, Stark, no offense, but why are you telling me all this? Shouldn't we just get this work done?" Bruce felt light-headed about Stark's babbling. Stark paused for a few seconds to look Bruce in the eye and then said,

"Well, I thought you if anyone'd be interested. It's not like my friends understand half of my gabble," he shifted his focus to his nails. Bruce watched as the boyish ardor started sweeping out of Stark's expression and the usual nonchalant expression took place. Despite himself, Bruce felt a pang of guilt.

"No, I was just wondering," he amended quickly. Stark looked at him again and Bruce sighed and continued, "So, electromagnetism then? You seem to have some ideas already." Stark's eyes widened a bit and he let out a smile, one that Bruce hadn't yet seen on the boy's face, but one that left all the other smiles in it's shadow. It seemed more...genuine.

"Great, I'll go and tell the teach," he said and got up. Bruce watched him go. He didn't want to change his opinion on Stark just yet, but he had a feeling that working together wouldn't be as bad as he first had thought it'd be.

 

* * *

 

They had agreed to meet at the library the next day, and Bruce was sitting in his usual place, some books scattered on the table before him. He was making notes and copying equations for their work.

"Banner, hi!" he heard and looked up. Stark was standing by his side, grabbing a chair. It was winter, so he was wearing a large scarf around his neck and a black European double-breasted coat. His nose was tinged with red and there were snowflakes in his hair and eyelashes. (Bruce thought that he probably should not pay so much attention to the guy.) "So you've already started, huh? Can I see? Gimme," he leaned into Bruce's side (and Bruce faintly noticed how good he smelled-wait, what  _no_ ) made grabby hands so Bruce rolled his eyes and handed the paper with his notes on it. Stark leaned back in his chair, the notes in one hand while the other loosened the scarf around his neck. His eyes roamed over the papers for a while.

"These are good, Bru-Banner!" he said and returned the papers.

"Thanks, Stark," Bruce replied and smiled briefly. Stark returned his smile and turned to reach books from his back bag which was hanging from his seat's backrest. He turned enough so that Bruce saw a faint bruise blossoming on his right cheekbone. It hadn't been there yesterday.

"Rough night, huh?" he asked, gesturing to Stark's face. Stark looked at him, eyes wide, and turned back to drop his books and pencil case onto the table.

"Yeah, something like that," he answered but didn't look at Bruce. Bruce shrugged mentally and they started working. Stark really wasn't half as bad as Bruce had thought. He was funny and witty, sometimes blurted something offensive, but he really wasn't a complete asshole. He was also even more genius than Bruce had imagined, and the idea about the electromagnet had blown his mind. Stark's mind could jump from one thing to another within microseconds and even Bruce had trouble keeping up occasionally. It made Bruce wonder how on Earth was this guy still in high school.

"I don't know if you get asked often, but how come you're still in high school? I mean, for all I know, you could be graduating from Harvard or MIT already." Stark glanced at him from his scribbles, lowered his pen and leaned back in his chair.

"Well," he drawled, "pops doesn't want me to skip years," Stark's mouth tightened only the slightest bit at the mention of his dad, but Bruce's clever eyes didn't miss it. "Says that I'm too young. But really it's probably because he's punishing me for wanting to attend public high school instead of a private one. Which is by the way because Rhodey and Pepper go here. They're my first friends, first one's that started befriending me just for fun to be specific. And then there's Happy, who's really Pepper's friend but now I know him too, and his great," Stark explained about his friends with a fond expression before scolding it into his usual, impassive and a bit arrogant look. He diverted the attention to Bruce, "But I could say the same about you too. So why's that?"

If Bruce didn't want Stark to see his home, then he certainly didn't want him to know that he probably wouldn't ever have enough money to pay for his studies. That was why Bruce desperately worked as an assistant in a small shop on weekends and holidays. But he again felt guilty about thinking that Stark was just too lazy to enroll into college.

"Can't afford it right now," he answered curtly. Stark surprised him by looking a bit guilty but again it was gone just as fast as it had appeared.

"Aw, that sucks, man," Stark said and looked down at his slim legs. Stark was about the same size as Bruce, same height, just a bit skinnier. His eyes were slightly more lighter and warmer brown in color, when Bruce's were almost black. Bruce noticed that Stark was looking at him with those eyes.

"Yeah, a bit. But it might change before we have to apply, you know," Bruce contented at saying. Stark nodded. They continued on their project mostly in silence, once in a while pointing something out about the work in hand.

 

* * *

 

It was Monday, and Bruce found himself oddly waiting for today's physics class. They'd been at the library last Thursday and they'd have to present their project tomorrow. But before that particular lesson, Bruce still had PE class left. They had their gym class with class A and the girls and boys were separated into different sides of the gym. Natasha Romanov and Virginia Potts actually got along well. They were standing close and talking quietly to each other, once in a while glancing at Barton, Rhodes, Hogan or Stark and giggling. Stark was with Rhodes and Hogan, while Barton bounced from group to group, looking overly excited about a mere PE class. Bruce was leaning against the wall, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. It of course was futile, once their teacher stepped into the gym. Their teacher was somewhat a stereotypical PE teacher, a gigantic man with an awful taste for clothes.

"OK, class! Today we're playing basketball, and I want you to start with push-ups and stretching. Girls do ten and guys do twenty. Once that's done, go find a partner and train passing with them. All clear?" before anyone could have a say in that, their teacher blew in his whistle and yelled, "Move it! Twenty minutes and then we'll start playing." Bruce hated this, always with the pairs. He sighed.

Everybody went down to do the push-ups (some whining more and some less) and Bruce also got to the right position. He wasn't actually weak, so it didn't take long until he had finished, and was stretching when pair of legs appeared in his line of vision. He looked up and saw Stark grinning down at him. He had to blink a few times. What was it? Was he going to pick on him? Or did he want to ask something about the project? Why couldn't it wait until next lesson then?

"Hi Banner," Stark said and crouched next to Bruce, "Wanna pair up? Honeybear and Happy both gave me the cold shoulder," Bruce glanced over Stark's shoulder and saw the two boys indeed doing stretches together. He also saw some other sophomores, Stark's friends too, glaring at them viciously.

"Shouldn't you be with your other friends?" Bruce asked and motioned behind Stark's back with a nod. Stark spared them a quick glance and then leaned closer to Bruce. Bruce instinctively leaned away from him, and Stark seemed to notice since he looked hurt for the briefest of moments (which made Bruce feel guilty,  _again_ ), but then anyway said, looking Bruce dead in the eye.

"I'll tell you a secret, Banner," he looked even more serious, "they're a bunch of meanies," once Bruce rolled his eyes he blinked furiously with his now puppy dog eyes, "no, Bannerrrr, be with me, pleeeeease," he whined. Bruce kept staring at Stark for a while longer before answering.

"It's not like there was anyone else wanting to be pairs with me," he smiled and watched as Stark looked at him somewhat apologetically but still happily. (How come he was happy now to spend time with Bruce? Last week he hadn't as much as existed to him.)

"Nice," he said and started stretching too when he saw Bruce continuing it. They then went to get a ball and passed it between them. Bruce was impressed by the power that lay beneath Stark's skinny figure, and actually had a rather good gym class.

The physics lesson went far too quickly to Bruce's liking and they agreed on meeting at the library again. Before getting home, Bruce went to see Jane's and his experiment, now in 'phase two' as they called it. When he had checked it and made some notes, he stepped out of the chemistry class into the silent hallway. Other students had already left and Bruce took long strides towards the stairs. Then he heard noise. Two people fighting. He followed the voices and ducked behind a corner when he saw the two people standing in front of the boys' toilets.

Stark was standing defiantly before at least a head taller guy whose back was turned towards Bruce.Aldrich Killian, Bruce's brain supplied. Killian took an intimidating step forwards, making Stark back up the small distance until he had his back against the wall, and Killian raised his arm next to Stark's head, so that he was leaning against the wall behind Stark.

"Oh, Tony," he said and gave a small laugh, "I thought I made myself clear last time we had this conversation. I know you're smart enough and you have the resources, so why aren't there any fake ID's in my hand at this moment?" Bruce blanched. Fake ID's? It didn't surprise him that Killian was involved with something criminal, but still. Bruce focused again on the scene before him when Stark scoffed.

"I'm not scared of you,  _Aldrich_ , and you know it. And, you should also know, if you have enough brain capacity, that is, that I'm not going to involve myself with your gang fights or what ever. So you, sir, can fuck off and stop bugging me with this shit," Stark didn't seem frightened at all, even when there was a man twice his size, cornering him against the wall. Bruce wasn't sure whether to think that Stark was the bravest guy he had ever met or the most suicidal of them.

"You know that's not how it works, Tony," Killian moves his right hand from his pocket and places it against the wall so that both of his arms cradle Stark's head. "But you know there's a way you can make it up for me," Killian smirks nastily and Stark flinches and tries to pry him off.

"Get off me, you fucke-" he's cut off when Killian grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him up the wall, so that Stark's balanced on Killian hips. "Let go of me, you sick fuck!"

"Shh, honey," Killian coons and licks the side of Stark's neck. "You know that Hammer and his boys'll rip you to pieces once I'm not watching over your sorry ass. It's only thanks to me, that your little friends can come to school every morning without someone beating them into a pulp." What the fuck? Were they blackmailing Stark? _Tony Stark?_  Bruce watches as Killian squeezes Stark's hipbone and then slides his hand lower. Stark lets out a small sound, and Bruce feels his composure starting to grumble. He hasn't had any of his anger fits since his early teenage years (thanks to therapy, that is), and he doesn't want to break that streak. But he doesn't want to watch something like this happening either, before his very eyes. Killian shifts his eyes to Stark's face again.

"By the way, Mike and his buds told me that you've started befriending some nerd," Bruce jolts and keeps his eyes trained on the two guys. "Getting soft, are we now, Stark?" he chuckles softly. "Watch your step, Tony, you don't want Justin to gain anymore upper hand," he says sweetly, gives Stark a deep kiss (which somehow makes Bruce's face scrunch up and his hands curl even tighter into fists) and then lets go of him, so that Stark slides to the floor. After Killian has left, Stark buries his face into his hands, and Bruce has to restrain himself so that he won't go to Stark.  _No._ They're going to use even Bruce against him. The thought makes Bruce feel sick. All this time he had thought that Tony Stark was just an arrogant brat with loads of fame and no responsibilities or worries. Oh, how wrong had he been.

Soon Stark gets up and leaves. Bruce waits still for a while and then hurries back to the stairway.

 

* * *

 

They meet at the library just as they had agreed, and Stark seems the same as always. Bruce probably wouldn't have noticed anything was wrong if he hadn't happened to eavesdrop on Stark and Aldrich Killian. He watches Stark babbling for a while as usual, and then encourages himself to confess.

"Um, Stark," he begins and in no time he has the other boy's attention. He clears his throat and decides it's easiest if he just gets straight to the point. "I saw you with Killian today," Stark stays still and then smiles a bit.

"Yeah, well we often hang out in school, it's not like it's unusual-"

"No, I mean, I saw you  _after_ school, before the boys' toilets," Stark looks at him, face betraying no emotion. "I'm... I'm sorry, Stark, I didn't mean to eavesdrop-"

"Yeah, but you did, didn't you? Leave it, it's my life, and I can handle it," Stark interrupts and turns towards his books again.

"No, Stark. You need help with this," Stark refuses to meet his eyes. "C'mon, I want to help-"

"I don't want your pity, Banner. I'm not a kid," Stark deadpans and glances at Bruce. "I don't need your help."

"Well, what about your friends? Do they know?" Bruce tries a different way to approach. Stark doesn't answer right away, but then shakes his head.

"No, they don't," he looks Bruce in the eyes, "and I don't want them to."

"Okay, I won't tell," Bruce promises. "And I don't know if there's much I can do, but if I can help," Stark gives him a desperate look. "don't look at me like that, Stark. If I can help then tell me, please," he looks at Stark who examines Bruce's face for a while before glancing away and nodding.

"Okay, Banner," he says. Bruce smiles a bit and bumps Stark's shoulder with his own.

"You can call me Bruce," he says and stares at the surprise in Stark's face. The surprise melts into a warm smile and he replies, laughing faintly,

"Then you call me Tony, Bruce."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I appreciate it! Kudos and comments (critique too!) are very much welcome!
> 
> EDITED: corrected a few typos and errors


	2. Make up your minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony discover feelings and cross some obstacles on their just now bloomed relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy again! ^u^
> 
> Hope you're enjoying a nice summer (or any season), here it's cold and rainy. I loved writing this chapter, it was very much fun, and I hope you get some of it across while reading!
> 
> If you think this fic was worth your time, please comment or leave kudos. See you around!

Bruce woke up to his alarm going off, telling him to get ready for a school day. He frantically whisked his hand until it hit the right button, silencing the device. It was early, but late enough so that Bruce's small but tidy room was light up by sunshine filtering through the shades. He groaned and got up, his already messy hair now sticking in every direction. Bruce went to bathroom, took a quick shower and brushed his teeth while simultaneously shrugging on a pair of worn jeans, a t-shirt and a dark blue, thin jacket. He steps out of his room and pads to the kitchen to grab some breakfast, when he's greeted by his father on the way.

"Morning, Bruce," Bruce freezes and glances at his dad. Brian Banner is sitting on the living room couch, a newspaper in his hands. "You've been in your own worlds for a while now, buddy," he continues, and Bruce is irritated how he tries to play the considerate parent. "But nothing's wrong, right? You've been a good boy, haven't you, Bruce?" his father lifts his eyes from the paper and looks at Bruce. The question sounds more like a threat, and in the dark eyes staring into his similar ones, Bruce sees the alcoholic madman who took away his father, and feels sick to his stomach.

"No, nothing's wrong, dad," he answers, ignoring the latter question, and leaves when Brian Banner's eyes lose their momentary sharpness and dull again, shifting back to the newspaper. He kisses his tired looking mom on the cheek once he enters the kitchen and snatches a toast and drops it into the toaster. Through the haze his brain is in the mornings, Bruce remembers that today he and Tony (Stark's Tony now) are going to present their project. His gut wrenches at the thought. He hates being in front of the class, hates being in the centre of the attention, being evaluated by everyone. The only thing that gives him comfort in it, is that he's going to do it with Tony. With Tony Stark.

 

* * *

 

The physics lesson is soon at hand, and Bruce keeps brushing his sweaty palms against his jeans. He knows that their work'll be better than anyone else's, and he knows that he won't be alone in the front, but his legs still twitch and his hands sweat. He watches as the other presentations proceed, thinks how he should express himself and what'd be the best way to put this or that. He hears the teacher call their names and they both get up, Tony a little more smoothly than Bruce, who thinks he must look really really nervous (which he  _is_ , but they don't have to know that).

Once they were in the front, Tony plugged a memory stick into the computer, opened their slide show, and started talking as soon as it was projected so that everyone could see it. They had agreed that they would speak in turns, Tony taking care of the slides. It wasn't that bad really. The class'd most likely watch the slide show and not stare at Bruce. Not a big deal. No worries. Tony's speech ceased and after a few seconds Bruce realized that he was supposed to say something.

"Uhm..." he looked at Tony in a haste. "I, um," Tony just watched him back, and then glanced deliberately down Bruce's hands. Bruce cast his eyes down. Oh, yeah, the notes. He fussed with the notes before he begun with his speech, and heard somebody (one of Mike Harvey's friends) cough  _'loser'_ and then someone else start mimicking Bruce's stuttering. Bruce's hands were shaking and it made it hard to read from the already wrinkly paper. He quickly glanced at Tony as he kept talking, and saw the genius boy leaning against the teacher's table, looking like he was thoroughly untouched by the whole situation. Bruce felt a stab of pain and betrayal. So, he really was nothing but a wall-flower, a temporal shoulder to cry on, a  _nuisance_ to Tony.

Bruce's now just a monotonic reading was interrupted when a paper ball hit his face. Many students laughed and the teacher started yelling and demanding the guilty to report themselves. Bruce stared at his notes that had fallen to the floor.  _He couldn't do this after all._

Bruce was trying to figure out whether it would be wiser to run or to walk out of the room, when he saw a lean hand reach for his notes on the floor, picking them up. He shifted his widened eyes, and saw Tony holding out the piece of paper. He looked into Bruce's eyes apologetically, and when Bruce took the notes from him, he briefly (so briefly that it could be misunderstood merely as a kick-start for turning around) leaned forward, placed a hand to the small of his back and said with a low tone,

"You can do it, Bruce, I know you can," before striding back to the other side of the smallish silver screen. He locked eyes with Bruce and nodded at him once their teacher had settled again. After a bit of a rough start, Bruce found that it was now easier to talk. They continued taking turns, and Bruce found himself getting more and more rapt with their project and the small reassuring smiles that Tony sent his way every time he looked at him, and not caring about the audience's doings (though it had quieted down and he even caught glimpses of some students actually listening to him (yes, _him,_ not just Tony) once in a while). He could do this.

All in all, it was an easy A, and the teacher praised them and admitted that even she hadn't understood all of their observations. Bruce had never felt this good after a presentation. They sat through a few other renditions and when the lesson ended and Bruce was gathering his stuff, Tony appeared before his desk. Bruce smiled and lifted his eyes to Tony's face, only to find that the other sophomore was beaming even more brightly.

"Good job, man!" he exclaimed and grabbed Bruce's shoulder, gently shaking it. "You were awesome back there! Did you see the looks on those dimwits' faces?" he whispered with a glint in his eyes. "Damn you're _cool!_   How could I _not see_  before, how awesome you really are?" he went on, looking like a kid in a toy store, eyes shining like brown liquid, surrounded by thick, dark lashes. He was giggling a bit now, and Bruce couldn't help but laugh a bit too himself, which served just to make Tony even more happy. He bent down and quickly planted his head on Bruce's shoulder, like a brief hug. It warmed Bruce to the core. When they stepped out of the class room ( _together_ ), Tony patted Bruce on the shoulder.

"Wanna hang out after school, Bruciebear? We could stay at my place. If you're interested, I mean," Tony wiggled his eyebrows and looked at him with his big chocolate eyes, now filled with anticipation. Bruce only had one choice against those eyes. He chuckled and glanced at his feet before meeting the intense gaze again.

"Sure," he said and smiled. Tony returned his grin tenfold.

"See you, then!" he called out, still smiling, spun gracefully and skidded after Harvey who was glaring daggers at them, patiently waiting Tony to follow. Once Tony was by his side, he flung his arm over the genius' shoulders, but to Bruce it didn't seem like a friendly gesture at all.

 

* * *

 

The day passed painfully slow, now that Bruce had something to look for after school. Bruce was actually very surprised how easy it had been to get a friend (they were friends now, weren't they?) in the end. Tony seemed to genuinely like Bruce (which surprised him even more) and Bruce had to admit that in such a small amount of time, Tony really had grown on him.

The bell finally rang, and Bruce swiftly exited the class, grabbed his coat from his locker and went to stand by the main entrance. Bruce waited for roughly ten minutes until he saw Tony advancing him. He flashed Bruce toothy grin. Something felt off. Should he ask Tony? He wasn't certain if Tony would appreciate or accept his concern. Damn it, he'll ask when they get to Tony's.

"Sorry for the wait, buddy. My driver's probably already outside, let's go," he told Bruce and pushed the other of the doors open. 

"A driver? What, Stark boy doesn't have a licence?" he teased. Tony smirked.

"Nah, pops's too paranoid," he answered, and Bruce wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. So, he shrugged and pried his eyes off of Tony to take a look at the black car (a freaking _Rolls-Royce)_ , parked next to the pavement before their school. Tony opened the back door and hopped in, keeping his hand flat against the door's insides as an invitation for Bruce to follow him (which he took, of course). The drive wasn't long, and before he knew, Bruce was already standing before the imposing mansion.

"C'mon, Bruce," Tony hurried him and tugged him inside, to the lobby. There stood a tidy, elderly man, smiling at Tony and him.

"Good afternoon, sir, how was your day?" he inquired pleasantly.

"Hi, Jarv. Fine, thanks," he removed his coat and scarf and urged Bruce to do the same. "This is my friend,"  _friend,_ Bruce smiled while pulling his coat off. "Bruce Banner. Bruce, this is Jarvis," Tony introduced. Bruce nodded at Jarvis and let Tony take his coat to dump it on the couch near the wall.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Banner," Jarvis smiled and then turned to face both of them. "Do you require anything? Perhaps a snack would be in order?"

"Yeah, thanks, J. We'll be in my room," Tony told the man, snatching Bruce's wrist to get him along. Jarvis just nodded and disappeared behind the door he had apparently originally come from. Bruce looked at Tony's back as he started pulling Bruce up the stairs and along a long hallway. Tony was wearing a pair of tight ( _tight)_ , dark jeans and a black leather jacket with a white t-shirt (ornamented with faint words and images) beneath it. Various different accessories curled around the wrist that connected with the hand that held Bruce's own. Bruce's daydreaming was cut off short, once Tony stopped and opened a door from their right.

"Welcome to my humble adobe," he said and held the door open for Bruce. Bruce snorted at the 'humble', but anyway obediently ducked his head and stepped in. He was met by the sight of a spacious, bright room, walls covered with equations, blueprints and pictures and posters of different bands and Tony's three friends (and some other people). The room was toned with warm and light colors and navy blue. Alongside the door where they'd just entered, there were two doors more, one leading to a big bathroom and the other to a walk-in closet. On top of the parquet floor, there stood an enormous bed, a pair of couches and a few armchairs, a desk (with a pile of books, a tablet and a laptop on top of it) and another desk (this time covered in wires and circuit boards). Near the couches there also hung a TV on the wall. Bruce stared in awe, and couldn't help but compare the room with his own back at home (a small square with whitish walls, containing a bed, a desk and a wardrobe).

"So this is how rich kids live, huh?" he smiled and let his eyes roam over the ceiling and the paper covered walls. "Is Jarvis you butler or what? I didn't even know it was still an occupation," Tony just snickered in response and pulled the door shut. He strutted past Bruce and deposited his bag on the couch and then shrugged his jacket off too. Bruce dropped his bag to the floor and also stripped himself from his blue jacket. Then he followed Tony where he had slumped on his bed. It felt somewhat awkward, and Bruce wondered why so. Tony looked up at Bruce for a while from his spot on the bed, and then asked,

"Wanna do science?" Bruce stared blankly at the boy. Then he laughed happily. He had waited for something more dramatic, and he loved it when Tony surprised him like this.

"Sure, what did you have in mind?" Tony scrambled up and hurried to his desk. He dug some crumpled papers from one of the drawers and soon he and Bruce were both completely wrapped up in their rapidly changing science experiments. Bruce couldn't remember when was the last time he had laughed or smiled as much as in that evening. Every now and then Tony would make silly jokes or get dirt on his face, and Bruce would laugh and wipe his friend's face clean again. Once in a while they would take small breaks and eat something or play video games, and Bruce loved every moment of their time together.

It was 9 PM when Bruce finally decided that he really should get back to home. He still had some of tomorrow's homework left (though they had done the most already together with Tony (and _fast,_ since they were both geniuses) and his parents would probably soon start wondering (or mom would, his dad would just get pissed for no reason) where he was lingering. He told Tony that he had to leave, and Tony nodded reluctantly.

"We can drop you off, it's no biggie," he offered. Bruce would have loved to spend even a little bit more time with Tony, but he didn't want to depend on him that much. Tony surely had enough friends who just hung out with him for his money, and Bruce didn't want Tony to think he was one of them.

"No thanks, Tony. I think a little walk'll do good," he deliberately arched his spine after getting up. "Walk me to the door, though?" he added when he saw a little pout forming on Tony's face _(Oh God, he is such a kid,_ Bruce thought fondly.) They took the stairs to downstairs and Bruce felt the muscles in his back tense when he heard a low, raging male voice and a sound of shattering glass, accompanied with a higher and a bit desperate female voice. It was all too familiar. He quickly glanced at Tony who had blanched and was now staring at nothing. He quickly recovered though, and smiled at Bruce.

"Oh, the drama," he said jokingly, but Bruce saw that under the mask Tony was flustered. This clearly wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He handed Bruce his coat. "Well, we'll see at school tomorrow, right? Thanks for dropping by," he said and smiled again at Bruce. Bruce stepped out of the door, to the brisk and dark night, and turned to face his friend who was standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, take care, Tony," he said, and knew that Tony would understand what he meant with it. Tony just nodded gratefully and closed the door. Bruce turned and started walking towards his home. He hated that he couldn't be there for Tony now. He should've stayed a little longer, so that Tony wouldn't have to go through that. But it was no use now, and Bruce knew that Tony wouldn't have wanted him to stay after that. And he was probably in a mess big enough without Bruce butting in. And that reminded him of... Oh  _crap_ , he had been supposed to ask Tony what had happened in the ten minutes the teen had made Bruce wait for him. Well, that was also too late to ask now.

Bruce cursed and ruffled his tousled hair. He hoped Tony was okay.

But why did he hope that? Why did he care? They had barely known a week (other than Bruce hating Tony and Tony ignoring Bruce's existence, that is) and Bruce was already this attached. He didn't even really know Tony, and all he knew Tony could easily ditch him whenever he so felt. So why? It wasn't like him to be this needy.

 _Needy?_   Did he already need Tony? So, what's next? Would he start forming a crush on Tony? Mind you, the most gorgeous, hottest, funniest, smartest guy in his whole school (in his whole _life,_ to be precise) and his only friend? Bruce felt a blush creep up his neck and to his cheeks.

_Oh._

So he already had. But since when, Bruce didn't know. Maybe even from the first time he had cast his eyes on the dashing genius.

 

* * *

 

Bruce had thought that this day would be just another day. In the morning he had woken up, done everything like he had done for so many mornings already, the only difference being the thought of Tony and yesterday's Science Bro Meeting (as Tony had called it) lingering in his mind. Tony's brown eyes, smile, laugh,  _everything,_ kept flickering in the front of his mind, making him ignore and forget his father's empty accusations and the vacant and distant look in his mother's eyes. He thought today would be great, actually.

But no. What'd he been imagining? It was  _his life,_ not a freaking fairy tale with a happy ending. After the second class, someone had clutched Bruce's hoodie by the shoulder, dragged him into a quieter hallway and shoved him up against the wall. Fuck his life.

Ivan Vanko, a junior and probably one of the most bad ass ( _"bad ass_ ", his brain corrected) gangsters in their school, was holding Bruce up with a bored expression plastered on his face. Vanko's face was covered in small scars and his breath stunk of cigarettes. Even though he didn't particularly seem like it, Bruce knew that Vanko wasn't just another simpleton trying to look though by performing childish vandalism. No, Vanko was a criminal, meddled in drug dealing and gang fights... Wait. Tony had said that Aldrich Killian was also meddled in gang fights. So there's a connection? Was this about Tony then? Bruce saw movement behind Vanko's head and focused on the moment again. There were three more guys standing behind the juvenile delinquent, and one of them was Justin Hammer.  _Great._

"Hi, Banner," he sneered. Justin Hammer was dressed in neat clothes and a pair of black glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. "Do you mind if I call you Bruce?" he continued, shuffling before him and smiling his ugly, cocky grin.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Actually, _Hammer_ , I do mi-" his protest was cut off when Vanko slammed him against the wall again. He hissed and heard Hammer giggle briefly.

"Oh, Bruce," he drawled like he was tasting and weighing the syllables on his tongue. "I've heard some nasty rumors about you, buddy." Hammer walked to Vanko's right side and shifted his gaze from his fingernails to Bruce's face. "I hear that you've been spending time with Stark lately." Bruce felt his heart skip a beat. Yeah, definitely about Tony. Justin Hammer turned and stalked a few steps away from Bruce and Vanko. His two other lackeys stood still and kept staring at Bruce.

"You know, Stark doesn't need you," he chirped as he paced. He turned towards Bruce to continue, "Tony isn't your friend, Bruce. You know he isn't." Bruce swallowed and took a firmer grip on the hand and the wrist holding him above the ground. Maybe deep down Bruce knew that Tony shouldn't be trusted (Just yet! But he couldn't help it, okay?), but still he didn't need (or want. Totally didn't want) Justin Hammer telling him that. Justin Hammer's opinions could go fuck themselves all he cared. Bruce groaned internally as he saw Hammer's mouth open up again. "Tony Stark is a selfish, pampered bastard," he spat and stared into Bruce's eyes. Bruce felt more and more irritated with every passing second. He just couldn't _stand_ this guy. Hammer approached him again and stopped so that his face was only inches away from Bruce's. "You're a nuisance to everyone, Banner," Oh, so back from first-name terms then, "and if you don't want yourself, or your  _precious,_ " Hammer used the most disgusting tone when he pronounced 'precious' (actually it made Bruce think of Gollum and he almost had to hold back a laugh) and Bruce inwardly grimaced. " _Tony Stark,_ " Oh. "to get _crushed_ ,"  _Oh._ "I suggest you leave Stark alone." Hammer leaned back and smiled at Bruce's baffled face. Hammer huffed.

"We had a little chat with Stark too yesterday, you know," Okay, one mystery solved. "and he didn't seem to give a damn about you, Bruce." Bruce knew that was a lie, since he had seen the look on the genius' slightly paler face yesterday. Hammer slapped Vanko's arm lightly and Bruce fell to the floor with a grunt.

"We don't like outsiders involving themselves into our business, especially ones like  _you._ I hope I got my message through, and I won't see you around Stark anymore. The next warning won't be as kind," Hammer heckled and walked away with his friends closely behind. Bruce got up once the group's retreating backs were far enough and dusted his jeans. What should he do? He knew that Tony was somewhat already in trouble, but wasn't Killian protecting him from Hammer and Vanko? Well, what if that failed and Tony got Killian  _and_  Hammer _and_ Vanko on his back instead? Bruce rubbed the spot between his eyes. What to do? Tony was his only friend (he was a friend) and he didn't want him to get hurt. He tugged at his bag and furiously thinking left for his next class.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of the day, the following day, and the day after, Bruce did his best to avoid Tony. When he saw Tony tying to catch a glimpse of him, Bruce'd duck behind someone or something. When he felt Tony trying to make an eye contact with him, he'd pretend to concentrate on one of his school books so hard he didn't notice. When he heard Tony approach him, he'd get in a hurry to use a bathroom and would flee in a blink of an eye.

He didn't want to admit that Hammer's poor threats had worked, but he really,  _really,_ didn't want Tony to get hurt. Not because of Bruce. And Tony would be fine without him, right? They had only met so little time ago, and Bruce knew that Tony's friends changed like tide. (But still he did feel rather bad about it. He didn't want Tony to have relationships that frail nor did he want to abandon his only (and just established) friend and be all alone once again.) Hell, Tony wouldn't probably even notice that Bruce had exited his life through the backdoor. And he had to remember, it was better like this. For both of them. When you're alone, no one can hurt you. Wait, did he just quote a Disney movie? Jesus.

"Hi, Bruce," he heard an icy voice sounding behind him.  _Crap._ He had been on his way to his next class from his (apparently) unsuccessful escape attempt to the boys' toilets. He turned to meet Tony's angry glare.

"Um, hey, Tony," he answered with a nervous smile tugging his lips. "I wasn't expecting you," Bruce continued and glanced around to see if there were any suspicious faces lurking nearby. His movement was aborted though, since Tony forcefully met his eyes and grabbed his upper arm.

"Bruce, what is it? What did I do? Is it because of the family drama? 'Cus it's not your fault, you know that right? And I know I'm an ass, but at least tell me when I-" Bruce interrupted Tony with an irritated hush and pulled him to the boys' room. Once the door was closed and Bruce had briefly checked that all the booths were empty, he let out a strained huff.

"It's not what you think, Tony," he begun, but was interrupted by Tony in turn.

"Yeah, it is. I did something wrong, right? I'm sorry, you know, I don't mean it, I just have no brain to mouth filter and it always comes down to this. Please, Bruce tell me what I did, I promise I'll-"

"Tony! I said it's not like that!"

"Then how is it?! I always screw up, okay,? I know it already," Tony was looking desperate, and Bruce felt so guilty (when would he stop feeling guilty whenever he as much as glanced at Tony?) for making Tony blame himself. But why was Tony acting like this? Did he consider Bruce as someone particularly important then? Bruce wanted to smile at the thought of Tony liking him but now wasn't the time or the place.

"No, it's not you, Tony," Bruce sighed. Inside his mind was a chaos, a battle between telling the truth (AKA being selfish and keeping Tony in spite of the consequences, but avoiding hurting him by himself) or lying (AKA probably loosing the said person's trust and friendship for good, but keeping both of them safe and sound). He swiped his hands over his face and decided to go with the latter.

"It's just that I don't want to hang out with you, To-Stark," _The quicker you rip the plaster off the less it hurts_. "I don't wanna be your "side-kick" and I don't want to be the guy you get to show off your cool stuff or big houses." Okay, some of these things had been bothering him sometimes, but he DID NOT really think like that. Oh God, he felt just so awful.

"Let's just call it quits, OK?" he ended his ramble and looked as Tony stared at him with zero emotion.  _He bought it._ Bruce swallowed the painful lump that had formed in his throat. But then, while he was still staring at the boy, Tony's eyes filled with concern and the tight line of his mouth loosened a bit.

"Bruce, I can tell you're lying," he said and studied Bruce's face intently. Tony took a step forward. "Did Hammer come to scare you too with his pathetic excuse of a gang?" he reached out and took a gentle hold of Bruce's shoulders. "He did, didn't he? Bruce?" he asked, staring square in Bruce's eye. Bruce let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, shaky with relief and surprise, and nodded.

"I didn't want to, but I know you're already in trouble with them and I didn't want you to get hurt and I had to-" he stopped talking when Tony pulled him into a tight hug. Only then Bruce noticed that Tony was trembling. He quickly wrapped his arms around Tony's lithe form and buried his face into the other teen's neck. He treasured the moment, breathed deeply Tony's scent in and out, feeling the warmth of his skin and rubbed soothing circles across Tony's back. Bruce didn't know how long they just stood there, but the spell was effectively broken when the bell rang to inform the beginning of the lesson. Bruce blinked repeatedly and pushed away from Tony with reluctance.

"We've got class, Tony," he said and smiled briefly. Tony glanced at his eyes before again training his gaze on Bruce's shoulder.

"Guess so," he shrugged and returned the small smile. They ran to their class room together and afterwards Tony came to eat his lunch with Bruce.  _They_ could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you didn't get it, the Disney quote is from "Hercules" c:
> 
> Please comment, I love reading and answering them! <3


	3. Food and encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hammer's unsuccessful attempts at separating Bruce and Tony, he decides to make his threats come true.
> 
> And by the way I just realized that Bruce calls Mike 'Mike' even though he calls everyone else (except Tony until now) by their last names. D: I'm sorry about the confusion! I edited the previous chapters, and Mike'll mostly be called 'Harvey' or 'Mike Harvey' from now on!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not all that happy with this chapter, but I guess it'll have to do! I feel so bad because I haven't updated my other fic even though I promised, so I'll get to that next. But I made this chapter extra long! ;)
> 
> The beginning is somewhat meaningless fluff, but I wanted to give some build to Tony and Bruce's relationship.

"Hey Bruce, it doesn't say here how long I have to stir," Tony whined and Bruce heard him flipping through pages.

"Just keep doing it until it looks right," he answered, keeping his eyes on the meat he was chopping. He didn't fancy loosing any fingers.

"Well, to put it bluntly, I have no idea how it should look," Tony laughed, but kept stirring anyway. He was standing by the stove with a wooden spatula in one hand while the other was tracing the words on the cooking book, laid on the counter top. The sight was somehow so domestic that it made Bruce's heart flutter. He looked back at his hands and continued working the knife.

The whole reason for their sudden cooking drive, was actually because Tony was a stubborn brat. It had all started today at school, when Tony had introduced Rhodey, Pepper and Happy to Bruce during the lunch break. They were charming and warm people, and they showed no signs of disdain towards Bruce (it probably shouldn't have surprised him, but it did). It was no wonder that Tony was so attached to them. Back to the point, somehow they had drifted to a conversation about basic surviving skills. Tony's three friends and Bruce all agreed that Tony would be the one most least likely to remain alive, due to his self-destructive tendencies, his lack of self preservation instinct and for the fact that he hadn't as much as prepared a single meal in his life. Tony of course got worked up by the fact, and argued that it wouldn't be that hard to cook a dinner. So, they ended up setting a bet with Rhodey. Tony would cook one dish ( _Something edible,_  Pepper had noted), and they'd admit that Tony wasn't that much of a spoiled brat. Otherwise Tony would have to admit his defeat and lack of skill. And because they didn't trust that Tony wouldn't get himself killed in process (or for the fact that he might ask Jarvis to do the task for him) Bruce had been assigned to accompany him (Why him, Bruce didn't know. Though he had a hunch that Tony's three friend had seen right through him and were now... helping him to hit on Tony? (Was he?) Nah, probably just a coincidence). 

_"How could it be that hard?" Tony had sneered._

His smile had somewhat wavered when he had taken a look at the cooking book and noticed that he didn't even know some of the terms or ingredients by their name. (Tony had insisted on Indian cuisine, since it was something Bruce had cooked a couple of times before and, well, because he had to prove that he could cook something even more challenging than a simple meal.) So here they were.

It was rather peaceful. Had been for a while actually. Not just between them or in the (Stark mansion's) kitchen, but in school also. It had been a few days since they had made the call to just screw it and were now 'openly' hanging out. It had been awkward at first (for other people and Bruce mostly), but hadn't really changed anything that much. Once in a while Tony'd still go to see Mike Harvey and the others, but even though he tried to get them to know each others, Bruce refused to meet them. He knew that they were just a bunch of bullies (and snitches, mind you). And he could bet on that Tony knew too, but just chose to ignore it. Much to Bruce's distaste, they were still Tony's friends. _  
_

Bruce glanced at Tony and found the genius concentrating intently on steering the sauce. He smiled fondly and finished chopping the meat. He got up moved from his spot on the table next to Tony and watched him work.

"I thinks that's good enough," he said, and took advantage of the opportunity to stand near Tony.  _God, he smelled good._ "You can put the lid on and leave it simmering now." Tony obeyed and turned fast enough so that Bruce didn't have time to step away. Their faces were inches apart and Bruce's breath stuttered.

"Ah, oops, uhm, sorry," he stammered and took off to get a frying pan. He heard Tony clear his throat and turn around to yet again look at the recipe.

"I can chop the vegetables," he offered. Bruce grunted his approval and when he had set the pan on the stove, started looking for the said vegetables.

"What does it say? Tomatoes, carrots, onions, red pepper and...?" he asked.

"Green beans and ginger."

"Ginger isn't a vegetable, just so you know."

"Neither is tomato, smart ass," Tony scoffed, and Bruce smirked while rolling his eyes.

"You find the ginger and onions, I've got the rest," he said instead of continuing their bickering. He picked the needed ingredients from the fridge and set them on the wooden breadboard. When Tony brought the rest he handed the knife to the other sophomore and added, "Don't cut yourself." His answer was an exasperated glare that clearly said,  _I'm not a kid, Bruce._ Bruce just chuckled, stepped in front of the stove in turn, and after adding butter, threw the pork he had earlier sliced on to the pan. He turned the meat on the pan, and not too much time after he heard a pained hiss from his right where his friend stood.  _Not a kid, my ass._

"Okay, Tony, show me," Bruce sighed and after swiftly reducing the heat under the pan, stepped next to Tony and took his hand in his.

"Bruce, it's just a scratch," Tony objected, but Bruce ignored him and examined a little while longer.

"Just a small cut. ("Told you!") Rinse it under the water and I'll get a band-aid. Where's your first aid kit?" Tony pointed him a cabin near the stove and Bruce rummaged through it. He wrapped Tony's finger in a plaster once he found one.

"Okay, now show me how you use the knife." Tony sighed dramatically but anyway took a hold of the blade. He took a tomato and started working and Bruce had to look away from the hideous sight. "No! Not like that! What are you doing? The poor tomato!" he exclaimed and Tony snickered. Bruce cracked a small smile himself too.

"Come on, I'll show you how to," he said and stepped behind Tony. He knew that he was playing dirty again, by taking an advantage of the situation, but he really couldn't be bothered. He took a hold of Tony's hands, the other one still holding the knife. "You hold it like this," he instructed and placed Tony's fingers properly. He plastered himself against Tony's back to reach the genius' hands better and to improve his view as he peered over Tony's shoulder, and while he felt his own cheeks warming up, he also saw Tony's ear turn slightly red. "and cut like this," he continued, grabbing the tomato again and slicing it with delicate hands. Tony's hands felt slender and smooth under his.

"See? Not hard at all," he smiled and (reluctantly) let go of Tony. "By the way, did you wash them before cutting? And you haven't peeled the carrots or the onions," he said while eyeing the food suspiciously. He turned to face Tony.

"Um..." the genius started and grinned. Bruce took that as a no. He sighed and after quickly washing the vegetables with the other boy and Bruce finding Tony a peeler, he returned to the stove. The rest of the cooking went pleasantly, Bruce seasoning the dish and Tony serving as a taste tester. Tony attacked Bruce when they were cleaning up and somehow managed to smear the leftover sauce all over his face. Bruce took his revenge by smudging the spices still on his hands also on the struggling and squealing Tony's face. They giggled like prime schoolers as they then cleaned each others up too. When they had set the table and the food was presented, Tony started snapping photos of the dish and Bruce while he tried to eat, telling him that he was sending them to Rhodey.

In the evening when he laid in his bed, listening to his father and mother's quarreling, muffled by the wall, Bruce realized how relaxed Tony made him.

 

* * *

 

 "Rhodey!" Tony yelled and dodged staring students while running towards his friend. "I feel that you have a promise yet to fill," he said and smiled smugly. Bruce trotted next to him. Rhodey sighed like it gave him great pains, but complied anyway.

"Okay, Tones, you aren't as incapable as you may seem at first," he said and bumped Tony, who was smiling a thousand kilowatt smile.

"See, it wasn't that hard," he said and chuckled. Bruce, Pepper and Happy laughed too but Rhodey just showed Tony a mock pout. After a brief interrogation whether the food had been edible or not, they separated to find their next class. As they turned, Bruce felt eyes on him, and saw Harvey standing with Hammer and some other guys by the wall. They were staring holes at him and Tony. Bruce felt somewhat flustered by it, but let it pass with a mental shrug. If something was to happen, he'd now have Tony with him to help get through it (and Tony'd have him, of course). The bell rang and their class started.

Bruce didn't let the growing restlessness in his stomach bother him until he felt cold water hit him in the back. Their biology lesson had just ended and they had been walking past the boys' toilets (it seemed to Bruce that all the out of the ordinary stuff happened there) and now they were facing Hammer, Vanko and five more elder students.

"Bruce!" Tony cried out, sounding concerned and pissed off. He pulled Bruce's now soaking wet hooded jacket off of him and threw his own cardigan on Bruce's shoulders. Then he turned and glared murderously, eyes flickering between Hammer and the guy holding the now empty bucket. "What the fuck is this shit? Is this some joke? 'Cus I'm not laughing," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Instead of answering, Hammer grabbed his chin and harshly pulled him forward.

"Hey!" Bruce yelled and launched towards Tony but his arms were grabbed by two junior guys.

"Oh Anthony, I did warn you," Hammer smiled. It was a nasty smirk. He chuckled shortly and continued, "Actually, I warned both of you. You know that loser is but a third wheel, and _I_  know that you have no real need for him," Hammer had Tony's face tilted slightly upwards so that their eyes met. Tony held his wrist but couldn't free himself from the tight grip. _The little piece of shit._ "That guy," he continued and looked briefly at Bruce. "is in our _way_. He makes my business with you... well let's say, harder, by clinging on to you all the time and making you see all the good in your life, changing _you,_ Anthony, into a softy or hippie or whatever you call yourselves." Hammer was panting slightly and Bruce saw sweat shimmering on his forehead. Was Hammer then under some pressure too? Well, what goes around comes around. "So, I'd really, and I mean  _really,_ appreciate it if you'd just _drop_ the goody two-shoes act, and in addition let Banner have a peaceful life, free of any unnecessary interferences or injuries by some  _pissed off_ people." Hammer was rather desperate, it seems."I bet he too, would like that, huh?" Hammer smiled a toothy grin as he finished, and everyone remained silent for awhile, waiting for Tony's response. Bruce shook his wet hair from his eyes and kept them locked on Tony. _  
_

"First of all, _fuck you,_   _Hammer,_ " Tony spat and pulled farther away from Hammer, the little he could. "And second, newsflash,  _we don't have_ _any business._ You and I, we don't _work together_ , get it? There is no 'we', Hammer. So you, and your freak show can fuck off all I care," he snarled and glared at Hammer. Bruce heard Vanko laugh faintly.

"Hammer," he said with his accented voice and Hammer instantly let go of Tony. The genius floundered after the sudden release, and Vanko used the opportunity to take a swing at him. Tony grunted in pain and fell to the floor.

"Tony!" Bruce struggled against the hands holding him. Tony tried to get up and counter Vanko but his attempt was halted when Vanko's boot found it's way to Tony's ribs. It send Tony flying a bit backwards and caused him to fall into a coughing fit.  _If that fucker cracked a single rib I swear I'll_ \- Bruce felt his anger starting to take over. He kept tugging and kicking but the hands didn't budge. His heart beat loud in his ears, and he didn't hear Hammer's laugh or his sneers. His breath quickened and he felt his muscles tense. He knew what was coming, but chose not to fight it, not to suppress it, as it was welcome now. When Vanko landed his foot on top of Tony's chest, Bruce's world went dark and he faintly heard himself screaming before he let it all go.

 

* * *

 

 Bruce woke up in a bright room, which he recognized as the school's infirmary. He was laid in a bed with a painted white metal trunk, and next to him he heard quiet breathing. He opened his eyes and saw Tony lying half on top of the bed and Bruce, half sitting on a chair. He was sleeping with his left cheek up, so that Bruce saw the already purplish bruise on it. The cut in the center of it was tended with a small butterfly stitch. Just looking at the wound made Bruce's blood boil, so he focused on Tony's face instead. The genius looked so vulnerable and peaceful as he slept, face relaxed, pink lips slack and long lashes curling over closed eyes.  _Beautiful,_ Bruce couldn't help but add.

"You're awake," he heard someone say. Bruce quickly tore his eyes off of Tony to see who was with them. He relaxed as he saw their school's nurse/counselor/administrator (Bruce really wasn't sure) Phil Coulson. He put the papers in his hand away and walked up to Bruce. He had a small torch in his hand. "I read your file, and it said that you've had some anger management issues in your childhood," he told him as he checked Bruce's eyes. Bruce swatted Coulson's hand away.

"And I have it under control. Or had until now," he added when he saw the look Coulson sent his way. "Mr. Coulson, it wasn't our fault, they were the ones who-"

"Yes, I'm aware," the man interrupted him. "Tony already told me his point of view on the matter, and principal Fury has questioned Hammer and his friends, as well as the few eyewitnesses," Phil Coulson smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Bruce, we've got this." Bruce wasn't sure whether to feel relieved that their distress was finally taken into account or to feel even more distressed about how Hammer and others would react. He set somewhere in between, and Coulson seemed to notice his anxiety since he somewhat changed the subject. He took a hold of Bruce's wrist to check his pulse.

"Tony told me that during what happened in the hallway, you seemed to somehow lose control and start shrieking," Bruce did not _shriek,_ damnit Tony. "and beating everyone up, sans Tony. And then when most of them had left and Tony called you out, you suddenly collapsed. Then principal Fury and I arrived as notified by a student and carried you here. Do you have any recollections of the incident?" Bruce shook his head and turned to look at Tony again.

"Is Tony okay?" his voice wavered only a little as he asked. Coulson smiled a bit and glanced at Tony also.

"It has been four hours since your attack, and Tony couldn't stop fidgeting about it. He was very shaken by your collapse. He barely let me tend his own injuries, as he demanded you to be fixed first. He has nothing major, only small cuts and scrapes and some bruises. I managed to assure him that all you needed was sleep, and after sitting next to you for about two hours he also drifted out," Coulson told him somewhat fondly but eyeing worriedly at Tony. "He's just tired, that's all."

Bruce couldn't stop the relieved and a bit shaky breath he let out. He rubbed at his brow before reaching at Tony. He noticed that his hand trembled slightly. _Would Tony be wary of him now? Was he still trustworthy?_  He took a gentle hold of the boy's shoulder and Tony flinched violently up and awake. A light sleeper then _. Or afraid of me,_ a dark whisper sounded in his head.

"Wha..." Tony blinked owlishly and then let his gaze roam along Bruce's hand to his face. "Bruce!" he cried and threw himself on Bruce's neck. Bruce was a little surprised, but gripped Tony tightly, remembering to mind his ribs. "Dammit, Bruce! You okay?" Tony rambled and pulled away to look Bruce up and down. Bruce cracked a small laugh at his friend. He wasn't the tiniest bit worried about The Other Guy, as Bruce sometimes liked to call his 'condition'. _Thank God,_  he thought as the shivers evened out.

"I'm fine, Tony. I'm the one who should be asking you that," he assured him. Tony smiled.

"I'm good, too." Bruce wasn't entirely convinced, but he returned the smile and let it slide for now. Since school was already over, they should get home.

"Can we leave now, Mr. Coulson?" he asked and looked at the man. He looked a bit reluctant.

"Yeah, Phil, Fury can interrogate us tomorrow or something," Tony added. Coulson looked from Bruce to Tony and sighed.

"Well, it's not like I can hold you here. Be careful on your way," he said and waved over his shoulder as he returned to his desk. The two sophomores agreed cheerfully, and Tony helped Bruce up from the bed. Once they were out from the infirmary and in the hallway, Bruce turned to Tony,

"My parents'll be away 'till tomorrow, wanna drop by?" he asked. He wanted to make sure that Tony really was okay (he did trust Coulson's evaluation, but he still couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to make sure), and it was a good opportunity to finally invite him over (he had gotten over his issues with their differences in wealth). Tony examined him for a little while and then nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, sounds great. I'll just send my driver a text, though I think he's already left since it's way past three," he said and dug his phone from his pocket. Bruce noticed that he was wearing only a t-shirt and that he indeed still had Tony's cardigan.

"Hey, you can have this back," he said and started unbuttoning the cloth. His own clothes were mostly dry already. A bit moist, that's all.

"No, leave it," Tony took a hold of his hand. "It's fine, I'll just grab my coat, 'kay?" he paused for awhile. "And I've got your hoodie," he continued and pulled the said garment from his bag. He eyed it with a thought and then shrugged it on, surprising Bruce. Tony flashed him a smug grin. "See? All good here." He turned his back to Bruce and strutted away. Bruce stared after the guy but then turned himself too and went to his locker. After checking twice whether Tony or anyone was nearby, he pulled at the collar of Tony's thick, warm cardigan and sniffed.  _Okay,_ the smelling thing might be getting a bit creepy, but he really loved Tony's scent. Soon the two met at the entrance and Bruce led the way to his home. They talked about the usual stuff, school, science projects and people, though they both seemed to be tired regardless the napping. Bruce didn't also have hard time detecting that Tony was sore (he was too, but it didn't matter to him now) and that he felt somewhat off. Bruce looked for his keys and luckily found them still resting in his jeans' rear pocket. He opened the door and let Tony in first. He felt a bit embarrassed to show Tony their small house, but at least his mom kept it as tidy as Jarvis kept the Stark mansion. Tony looked around for a while as Bruce put their coats on the rack.

"It's cozy," he said with a sleepish smile. The kitchen, hallway, the lounge and the living room all belonged to the common area, separated only by occasional white walls, with small pictures and paintings hanging on the them. Bruce smiled back at him. 

"Yeah. Hungry?" he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"God, yes. Missed lunch," was his answer and Bruce heard Tony padding closely behind him. He sat on top of the counter top as Bruce rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. He threw a box of yesterday's pasta leftovers into the microwave and decided that some sandwiches would do with it for now. Tony watched him as Bruce made a simple ham sandwich, cut it in half and gave Tony the other half while shoving the other promptly into his mouth. He snapped the microwave open and scooped some pasta into a bowl. He added a fork into the mess and pushed it to Tony who happily dug in. Bruce made a similar portion for himself, and once they were full, Bruce took Tony to his room.

"You mind if I change?" he asked as he fumbled with his clothes. They were still a little damp, and now Tony's cardigan was also getting moist.

"Nope, be my guest," Tony smirked. Bruce immediately regretted his decision and turned his face to his dresser to gather a new set of clothes and to hide his blush. He hadn't realized it at first, but he himself did mind getting naked before his crush. Bruce quickly changed his clothes and turned around to see Tony's grin again. Only that he found the genius boy looking at his own feet on the floor, cheeks flushed.  _Oh. Maybe there was even more to learn about Tony._

"All clear, Tony. But tell me, I didn't know that our school's own playboy could be  _shy,_ " he chuckled fondly, and Tony's attempted angry glare and the pillow he sent flying towards Bruce's face only served  to make him laugh even more. Bruce countered by smacking the pillow at Tony, and soon they found themselves on Bruce's bed, laughing and panting. Bruce was almost sure that he heard Tony quietly mutter _o_ _nly when it's you,_ but he could've imagined that. Nevertheless, the thought alone made him warm up from the inside. They sat there side by side for some time, catching their breaths and just relaxing. Bruce felt weight setting on his shoulder as Tony hummed and rested his head against it. He glanced at the sophomore who seemed to be deep in thought.

"What are you thinking?" he inquired. Tony hummed again. 

"Just... stuff, you know," was his curt answer. Bruce snorted softly.

"No, I don't know, actually," he said and looked at Tony again. "Tell me what's eating you," he continued. "Is it about what happened today?"

Tony just leaned against him. "So it is then," Bruce concluded. Tony stayed yet again silent, and Bruce found the speechless Tony worrying.

"Tony?" he said and gently jerked his shoulder. Tony only turned his head so that his face was buried in Bruce's shoulder and then grabbed at the fabric of Bruce's shirt near his face. In some other concept, Bruce would've found this adorable, but right now it just made him feel really concerned. "Tony," he said quietly and twisted so that he could wrap his arms around the genius boy. "Don't tell me you're blaming yourself about it?" he prodded and all the confirmation he needed was when the grip on his shirt tightened slightly. "Oh no, no, no, Tony," he soothed and rubbed Tony's back. "It's not your fault, buddy. You did what you could and no one got hurt gravely or anythi-"

"But they hurt you," Tony interrupted with a weak but sharp tone. "You lost your temper because of me and then collapsed and-"

"Tony, I'm fine," he reassured and pulled the boy in his arms even tighter against his chest. He felt horrible, thinking that Tony blamed himself. Bruce placed his chin on top of Tony's head before continuing, "I didn't get hurt, the only one hurt is you, and that's all I care," he said truthfully. God, he was grateful that he had trusted his gut on this and brought Tony home with him. Tony shouldn't by no means bottle up something like this inside. Bruce knew by experience that it never came down to anything good. Tony shifted and wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck. At some point they lay down, and Bruce never stopped rubbing Tony's back, trying to make him feel as important as he was to Bruce. At some point they still had to separate, and the spell was broken by Tony pushing away from Bruce.

"I get it, thanks, Bruce," he said quietly, patting Bruce's cheek and smiling at him. His eyes were still sad, but he seemed to be feeling better. Bruce smiled back and clapped Tony's arm once in turn. He left his hand resting there before asking,

"Well then, up for some homework?" Tony grimaced his objection but said anyway,

"Yeah, I'll text Mandy." Mandy Price was their classmate and one of Tony's many 'girlfriends'. Though they only hung out once in a while according to Tony, but Bruce still felt a pang of jealousy, so he nodded quickly and went to get their bags. The evening proceeded quickly and it was already nearing 10 PM when Tony said that he'd better get going. Bruce felt extremely disappointed and couldn't stop himself before he blurted,

"Wanna stay over?" Bruce wanted to smack a palm over his face but refrained. Tony looked at him with a raised eyebrow so Bruce elaborated, "I mean, it's no trouble, and it's already late. And we're anyway going to the same place tomorrow, so what do you think?" he rambled and scratched the back of his neck. Tony's stoic face melted into a smirk.

"Sure, sounds fun, I'll let Jarvis know," he said. "Can I borrow your clothes then? And a shower'd be great. And I've got my own toothbrush with me since I tend to do sleepovers, so no need for that. I was never a big fan of cavities, thank you very much," he continued, still smiling, as he tapped a message to their family's butler.

"Yeah, got it," Bruce got out and went to dig some clothes from his wardrobe. He ended up handing Tony a plain, light grey, v-necked t-shirt and a pair of loose pants. He also gave him a towel and a permission to borrow his deodorant after Tony insisted. When Tony had borrowed only his hoodie, it had already made Bruce felt somehow heated (and...possessive?), so he couldn't even comprehend how he'd react when Tony'd be clad from head to toe in Bruce's clothes, smelling fresh from the shower and of Bruce's own deodorant. Bruce decided that it was time to cool off, so he made them supper (grilled cheese, sliced apple and some herbal tea) as Tony washed up. The sight he was greeted with when Tony entered the kitchen was even more delicious than Bruce had imagined, and he had to turn away so that Tony couldn't see him blush. Tony's hair was wet, and his cheeks were faintly tinted red from the hot water. The shirt fit him a bit loosely, exposing the gorgeous neck and a part of his shoulders and the pants hung low on his waist. He had the towel on his shoulders, so that the water dripping from his hair was gathered in it.

"Oh my, smells  _awesome,_ " Tony sighed as he dropped on to the table. Bruce huffed and set his plate in front him. Tony instantly started devouring his meal and Bruce soon followed his friend's example. Then he took a quick shower and changed into a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt. He brushed his teeth and returned to his room, where he found Tony already in  _his_  bed, grinning up at him. Bruce forced down a flush (and most likely failed) and sighed fondly instead.

"No problem in making yourself at home, I take it?" he asked and after setting the alarm, he too got in next to Tony. His bed wasn't big, and his left side was pressed against Tony. If they'd been in Tony's bed, they'd be able to sleep however they wanted and not disturb each other, but Tony didn't seem to mind the cramped space. Instead he even  _nuzzled_ his face against Bruce's shoulder and seemed to fall asleep almost instantly. Bruce watched the relaxed face next to him and wondered if he'd be able to sleep at all tonight.

 

* * *

 

Bruce had been so lucky.  _So lucky_  that he had woken up before the alarm, since as he hazily blinked himself awake, he found himself sporting a remarkable morning wood.  _Crap._ The reason for it was evident, since Bruce rarely experienced these occasions, and there was the main protagonist of his latest dream, lying in his bed, asleep and half on top of him, in  _Bruce's_  clothes and smelling  _so fantastic_ and looking beyond _hot,_ even with that disheveled bedhead of his. The sight made Bruce's hard-on even more obvious, so Bruce scrambled up and made a beeline to the bathroom. He tried to cool off, thinking about everything but his dream,  _Tony's soft lips curling around his-_ OH NO. Now, time to get a grip and not think of  _Tony moaning with his absolutely beautiful voice as Bruce-_ DAMMIT, FREAKING HELL. Now was NOT the time for this.

He counted from ten to one, then again and again until his pulse had slowed down and his raging boner had calmed down. He was not going to jack off with Tony still in the house. Then he washed his face, breathed deeply and walked back to his room. Tony was still asleep, though he had rolled over in a position that looked like he was trying to reach for Bruce. Bruce chuckled quietly and glanced at his clock.  _6:48 AM._ It wouldn't be long until it'd go off, so Bruce decided to change now and then go and prepare something for breakfast. He thought that Tony should eat something proper, so he opted for scrambled eggs and toast (and coffee, since he knew that Tony'd demand it). Bruce was just piling the food onto plates as he heard his alarm going off and Tony swearing as he tried to silence it. Soon enough the groggy teenager padded to kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"You know, Bruce, it's no fun waking up into an empty bed," he whined. Bruce snickered, determined not to think of the reason he had to get up earlier than planned.

"Well, I hope that this is good enough of an apology," he answered and pushed the plate to Tony. "There's toast in the toaster and peanut butter on the counter. Coffee should be ready in a minute," he instructed and watched as Tony's face light up as Bruce talked (especially when he came to the coffee part).

"You bet, thanks, dear," he said and went to the toaster. Bruce knew that Tony had been joking but still couldn't help but smile at the 'dear'. They ate and talked about the upcoming 'interrogation' (as Tony had named it) with Nick Fury. After that, they groomed themselves, Tony using an illegal amount of Bruce's hair products and face lotions. Tony decided upon borrowing Bruce's t-shirt for the rest of the day, otherwise wearing yesterday's black, tight ( _tight again)_ jeans and the mentioned dark grey cardigan. Bruce did what he had been meaning to do for the whole preceding evening, he checked Tony's injuries and verified Phil Coulson's evaluation. Bruises, minor cuts and small scrapes. (But he did see a good share of skin and abs in process.) When the clock started nearing eight, they walked  _together_ to school (it made Bruce feel very excited and special, since Tony was the popular kid and he wasn't, and now everyone that wasn't already, would be convinced about their friendship), giggling and gossiping like some preteen school girls. Their fun was cut short though, when they were met by the familiar imposing figure, sporting a medical eye patch and black suit, by the school's entrance. Nick Freaking Fury.

"Good morning, boys," he greeted Tony and him.

"Morning, Fury," Tony said and smiled broadly despite the bulky bruise on his cheek. "Whatcha thinking behind the eye patch?" Fury didn't blink an eye.

"You two, in my office, now," he bit out, stoic. He had a rather menacing air around him.

"Aye, aye, captain!" Tony cheered and mock saluted. Bruce couldn't stop the loud snort and elbowed Tony when Fury sent a glare at him. He cleared his throat.

"We'll be there, principal Fury," he said and pushed Tony so that they got away from Fury's surveillance. He smacked the back of Tony's head playfully. "You're a mental case! Wanna get your ass grounded for the rest of your high school years?" he laughed. Tony cackled back at him. The two geniuses separated briefly to deposit and collect their stuff from their lockers, but were soon reunited in Fury's office. Fury told them to sit down as he himself circled the room in a languid pace, his coat's hem fluttering every now and then. 

"So," Fury began. He had stopped before the window, his back facing Bruce and Tony. The latter sputtered silently, and mouthed 'drama queen' when Bruce looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Fury had turned when Bruce looked back, his expression saying 'why the fuck did I choose this line of work?'. "If you're quite finished, I'd like to know your stances on yesterday's events, exactly from 1100 to 1130 hours." Fury seemed tired and more than cranky. Tony was the first one to answer.

"We were assaulted by some assholes en route to lunch, but Bruce beat them into a pulp like a motherfucking machine." He fist pumped the air before him. "Though he did pass out cold afterwards and then Phil and you, sir, came along. And that's the end of the story, kids. So are we dismissed?" he rambled and made a move to get up. Fury clapped his shoulder and slammed him back on his ass.

"Not so fast, Stark. Banner, your version of the story, if I may," he said, turning to Bruce. The one-eyed glare made Bruce feel uncomfortable.

"Uhm, well I was 'out cold' half of it, but the beginning sounds right." He nodded and looked at Tony, grinning a bit. Tony watched him like a proud father. Fury sighed greatly.

"Got any more detail, kid?"

"Well, they, um, threw a bucketful of water at me, then started harassing Tony and then it went black. So, that's 'bout it, for me at least." He smiled apologetically. A thought occurred to Bruce. "By the way, who was it that came to get you guys? Someone we know?" It probably wouldn't have attracted Bruce's attention, but there actually hadn't been any students not closely involved with the occurrence (though Coulson had mentioned some eyewitnesses?). Fury eyed him for a while.

"No, I don't think so," he says curtly, and fiddles with a pen. "I've got my eyes, and that's all you need to know." Huh, so Fury has, what,  _spies?_ Among students? Bruce had to school his expression back to normal.

"Oh, isn't this starting to painfully resemble some corny ol' spy movie," Tony said with a bored tone, not lifting his gaze from his fingernails. Bruce knew better. His friend was actually rather interested about the whole entirety. Bruce forced back a smile. "So, are we free now?" Tony continued. Fury sighed yet again.

"Well, I'm tired of dealing with this shit, and it seems that you ain't the ones to blame. I'll see that the other party is punished as I see fit, and meanwhile you two stay out of trouble," he said and pointed at the two sophomores. "Also, don't corrupt Banner, Stark. I don't need any more regulars popping up here as they so please."

"Aw, come on, I know you like it," Tony said and winked. Fury just rolled his eye. " _And,_ good principal Fury, you'd be surprised," the genius continued then, and as an indication for what he'd been talking about, threw a hand over Bruce's shoulder. Bruce flashed Tony a face, flushing a bit at the implication, and called out his goodbyes to Fury.

In the end, they hadn't missed but a good twenty minutes of their English lesson (much to Tony's disappointment), and the day continued as usual. Only difference was that Tony avoided Harvey and the other 'popular kids' and focused solely on Bruce (and Rhodey, Pepper and Happy once they came over and started hovering over the yesterday's events (the whole school knew by now) and the bruises on Tony's face. To top it off, Rhodey kept glancing smugly at Tony's attire, (and wiggled his eyebrows at Tony) as Pepper gave Bruce a knowing look. Bruce kept shaking his head and making desperate (and flushed) faces). Still, Bruce couldn't help but notice Hammer's ( ~~bruised and battered~~ , he added as he eyed his accomplishments in terror (and amusement)) gang's poisonous glares.

On lunch break, they settled on the empty table Bruce often populated. They were bickering whether Daenerys or one of the Starks should conquer the Iron Throne in the end (Tony was winning with his khaleesi, but Bruce thought it was funny seeing his friend defendingfiercely a fictional character, so he kept pushing his opinions), as a couple of trays were set opposite to them on the table. They both rapidly looked up only to meet two amused faces.

"Hey you," Natasha Romanov said and tilted her pretty head towards the Clint Barton standing next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yeah, I have a smelling kink, sort of.
> 
> And, I thought that if Nick Fury was a civilian, he wouldn't be wearing THAT bad ass clothes. So, I changed the eye patch into a white medical one, which might seem a bit more normal for a high school principal. Hopefully it's okay.
> 
> BTW, if someone doesn't know what the heck they're talking about in the end, it's a book and TV series called 'Game of Thrones'.
> 
> Please comment, I love hearing from you! :)
> 
> Peace! <3


	4. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony have somewhat of a fight and it somehow changes things.
> 
> MILD SEXUAL CONTENT. MIGHT TRIGGER.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helllllooo! Oh my gosh, this took me like an eternity to write... I hope you like it though! I at least loved writing it (most of the time) ;)
> 
> I'm not all that happy with the ending, but what can you do...! Enjoy! <3

Bruce blinked in awe. The school's probably most isolated (after the emos) and at the same respected and popular (after the 'popular kids') people were standing before them, looking as intimidating as ever and freaking  _greeting_ them. (It most likely wasn't very new to Tony, but to Bruce it certainly was.) _  
_

"Hi, beautiful," Bruce heard Tony say from next to him. He suppressed a scowl. It made him feel a bit jealous (and it _shouldn't,_ because they weren't dating or anything), but then again Tony flirted with anything that walked on two legs with little to no meaning. It was sort of a way of interacting for Tony. Bruce glanced at Romanov's boyfriend, but Barton didn't seem too peeved at the comment. He was totally being too possessive.

"Is this spot taken?" the redhead continued, gesturing to their trays on the table. Her read curls swirled with the movement.

"Nope, be my pleasure," Tony answered and cocked his head, smirking confidently. The arrogant Tony seemed so alien from the sweet genius Bruce had the privilege to spend time with, though Tony was always Tony. Witty, funny, cocky and kind. Bruce smothered a fond smile.

The couple sat down after nodding and the two geniuses returned to their lunches, changing looks.

"We've heard some rumors," Barton told them after a while of silent eating.  _Always with the rumors._ Bruce wanted to roll his eyes. "and it seems that you guys are in some deep shit," the archer clubber continued around a mouthful of chicken.

"Don't speak while you eat," Romanov scolded him and absent-mindedly jabbed an elbow to his boyfriend's ribs. Baton jerked at the shove, and quickly chewed and swallowed before continuing.

"Angering the gang guys... Not a smart move, if I may say."

"Um, actually, no one asked for your opinion," Tony said as he took a sip from his juice box. Bruce tried not to stare as Tony sucked at the straw. "We can handle it, and they're already cowering in fear," the genius sophomore continued, motioning with his hand and eyeing Bruce, smirking. Bruce smiled back at his friend.

"Huh." Barton glanced swiftly at Hammer's table. "Well, we still thought that you might need some allies. Unless you want more shiners, Stark. Though I don't think they suit your style." The fellow sophomore was grinning smugly, voice mock apologetic. Tony snorted.

"Why would you want to interfere?" he asked, not sounding too attacking, but not overly trusting either.

"We don't like bullies," Natasha Romanov said, not looking up from her serving. Bruce eyed the martial artist. She seemed sincere as she met Bruce's gaze, so he let the tension seep from his shoulders. Tony seemed to notice, but he wasn't as trusting.

"And that's it? I didn't take you guys as such goody two-shoes," he sneered.

"Tony," Bruce whispered (or more like hissed) with a condemning frown. Tony looked at him innocently, raising an eyebrow. Bruce frowned more at him before glancing back at Romanov and Barton. The two didn't fortunately look offended, and Barton just huffed.

"Well, it wasn't necessarily us in the first place tha-" Natasha interrupted his boyfriend by smacking the back of his hand at his face and Barton let out a muffled sound.  _Not them?_ Bruce looked at Tony, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Bruce, eyes sharp and attentive. _  
_

"Oh," the genius next to him drawled. "Don't tell me, that _you,_ are Fury's  _'eyes'?"_ Tony giggled a bit, eyes wide with amusement. "Oh my _God_ , this is too good. Or possibly too fucked up," he continued, dropping his face into his hands and rubbing his eyes. "You can tell your M here that he can shove his security services up his ass." Bruce slapped Tony's lower back and Tony jerked, afterwards glaring at Bruce. Bruce let smile tug at the other corner of his mouth. Romanov laughed faintly and the two geniuses snapped their heads back at the couple.

"Aren't you two cute?" she asked, showing them her cocky, pretty smile. "We just want to help, Stark. I bet you don't want your boyfriend getting in the crossfire." Bruce felt his cheeks heat at the redhead's words.

"I'm not his  _boyfriend,_ " he countered, managing not to sound bitter or disappointed at his own words. "And I won't get in the crossfire, since I'm already _in the middle_ of it." He crossed his hands defiantly as he finished, and looked at Tony. His friend's face was stern, but his eyes looked a little sad. (Bruce hoped that it wasn't because of his words (that might have come across a little harsh), though why would it be? Bruce wasn't that blue-eyed that he would believe to ever be more than friends with Tony. Which, being friends that is, was _more than enough_  for Bruce, _of course_.) After the briefest of moments, Tony turned to face Romanov again.

"That's right," he begun, voice void of any emotions. "So if you'll excuse us, we are quite finished with our lunch. Right, Brucie?" Tony continued as he got up, bending over a little to have a hold of his tray.

"Right," Bruce said and got up as well. They turned to leave.

"Catch you later, Stark, Banner," Barton called from behind them. Tony waved absent-mindedly, not sparing a glance at the couple, and Bruce decided to go with hunching his shoulders a little bit. They deposited their trays and continued to the hallway in silence. It seemed oddly tense.

"...Bruce," Tony said, looking straight before him. Bruce quickly moved his eyes at his friend.

"Yes?" he asked, but Tony remained quiet, staring ahead. He looked like he was deep in thought, perhaps a bit pouty even. It made Bruce push, "Tony?"

"Um, never mind," the teen said as he sobered from his whatever train of thought, glancing at his feet and then smiling at Bruce. The smile was supposed to be reassuring but somehow it didn't succeed to reassure Bruce at all.

"What?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Tony chuckled and ruffled Bruce's hair briefly.

"I told you! Nothing! I figured it out already," he answered, retracting his hand from Bruce's hair, still smirking. In the end, Bruce only huffed and smiled at his friend.

"Okay, then," he said, bumping shoulders with Tony, it already being a familiar gesture between the two. Tony grinned, bumping Bruce too as if to say 'thank you'.

"Let's go then," he said and tugged Bruce along. The two teens found their way to their classroom, and their math class started soon enough. Bruce thought it was the best one so far, since Tony had decided to come sit with him. The two geniuses did their exercises in privacy, at the same Bruce writing little greetings on small pieces of paper for Tony and Tony doodling and sketching in Bruce's notebook. Bruce had his head so high up in the clouds from Tony's presence and his own glee that he almost didn't notice the small signs in Tony that showed that something was wrong. (For instance the occasional and well-masked (though not that well-masked from Bruce) look of hurt in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty to do things he usually did without concerns (he hesitated (though only briefly) to touch Bruce once in a while and erased his drawings with unsettling frequency before drawing something else over it) and eyed Bruce with a thoughtful look when he thought Bruce didn't see.) Bruce almost didn't notice.

 

* * *

 

He couldn't stop thinking whether Tony was okay or not. The fact that Bruce was thinking about the fellow genius wasn't really new (Tony seemed to be in the front of his mind about 90 percent of the time nowadays), but he hated this kind of a gnawing feeling. Their school day had continued as usual, and now Bruce was already standing on the Banner family's doorstep, fitting his keys to the lock. He opened the door and stepped into his own personal hell. He rushed to his room, vaguely calling 'hellos' to his parents (who had returned from wherever they had been). As he leaned his room's door shut, he welcomed the thoughts of Tony again. They would take him away from this hellhole called home.

Bruce thought about the recent moments they had spent together in his room, their epic pillow fight, the time they used doing their homework and of course their rather deep conversation. And of course that reminded him of the current Tony. Was something really wrong? Couldn't be. He was probably just overreacting, the mother hen he was (as Tony ever so helpfully kept reminding him). Still he managed to feel like giving his friend a thousand hugs.

I guess I really do love him.

It felt weird admitting it, but even after merely a month of time they had just known each other (knowing someone being described as talking to said person), it felt the most real thing in his life. He was in love with Tony. With Tony _fucking_ Stark. Bruce chuckled fondly. 

He stalked to his bed and flopped on top of it. He straightened the covers with his hand, then bent over too bury his face in his other pillow, the one Tony had used to sleep on last night. It still smelled of Tony, and Bruce felt heat surge through him at the memory of his friend lying next to him, the look on his face. Right after he flushed bright red, as he remembered his hard-on of the morning. He was _so_ glad he had woken up before Tony. Because _that_ would've been  _awkward._ But it maybe it could've ended up like in Bruce's dream...

Oh, great, now he was hard again. The reassuring and calming thoughts about Tony weren't suddenly calming at all. Vice versa actually, they made Bruce feel hot all over, his heartbeat and breaths quickening as the dream Tony invaded his mind. Bruce reached down and slipped his hand into his underpants.

"Ah," Bruce had to gasp a shuddering breath.

 _Damn it_ , now he was jerking off to his friend. And he couldn't care less.

 

* * *

 

The next day (Friday) Bruce was convinced that Tony was bothered by something. And it seemed more or less to be about Bruce, since Bruce kept getting all these uneasy vibes when they were close. Tony didn't avoid him though, and otherwise treated Bruce as always, just less thouchy-feely. Had he hurt Tony somehow? The thought alone made Bruce feel almost nauseous. He did not,  _ever,_ want to hurt Tony. _  
_

"Bruce!" Bruce blinked when he heard Tony call him. He had apparently been daydreaming.

"Yeah?" he croaked and turned his face to look at Tony. Tony's warm, brown eyes were tinted with concern and wonder. The teens hair was styled in the usual spiked up way, and the always fashionable clothes clung to his frame in a delicious manner.

"You okay?" the brunette asked him, tilting his head slightly.  _Adorable._ Bruce mentally shook his head, coaching himself to focus.

"Of course, Tony, why?"  _Though I should be the one asking you, actually._ Tony shrugged, but the small crease between his eyebrows didn't smooth out. Bruce wanted to kiss it away.

"Nah, it's just because you were zoning out," Tony answered and returned to his scribbles. They were currently in biology class, but Tony was scribbling about his 'arc reactor' (the electromagnet) into his notebook. There had been some progress in the development, and the whole thing was just brilliant.

"Sorry about that," Bruce mumbled and glanced at the black board. Tony often had wondered (in a whiny way) how could they still use black boards in schools. "So, how's the arc reactor?" he asked quietly, so that their teacher wouldn't notice their lack of attention.

"It's good," Tony said with an indifferent voice, but Bruce didn't miss the smug way the corner of his mouth quirked. Bruce hummed and smiled a bit. He glanced at the clock which informed him that there were only five minutes left of their lesson, the last one of the day. They sat the remaining time in silence, and Tony started packing his stuff when the last minute started. As the bell rang Bruce looked up at Tony, up for the reason that genius was already getting up.

"Hey Tony," he begun and watched as Tony's eyes locked with his. "Wanna meet up later today?" he asked. Even though they were already friends, asking the genius out (though the genius in question didn't perceive it like that) still made Bruce's heart race, so he added hastily, "I mean, if you have time." Tony eyed him for a moment (increasing Bruce's desire to face palm), seemingly in thought. Bruce noticed that his friend looked tired, like he had had a poorly slept night. Finally Tony opened his mouth.

"Sorry, Brucie," Bruce felt his heart sink at the words. "I have other plans already. Catch up with you later, though?" Tony continued and placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"No, don't worry, it was nothing important anyway," Bruce amended quickly, not wanting Tony to leave but not wanting to bother him either. He kept his voice carefully controlled, not letting his too big disappointment show. "Yeah, see you." The sophomore with unruly curls raised his head and caught a glimpse of regret in Tony's eyes. Then the other smiled.

"Yeah," Tony said and gave Bruce's shoulder a pat when Bruce smiled back at him. Then he turned and left Bruce sitting in the almost empty classroom. The dark haired genius too gathered his belongings and headed straight home.

 

* * *

 

"BRUCE!"

Bruce flinched violently when he heard his father yell his name. He let the homework drop from his lap and hurried to the common area. He glanced warily at his father and hunched his shoulders, an old habit from his childhood.

"The door," Brian Banner said, not moving his eyes from the TV. Bruce inwardly sighed big time in relief and turned to the door. The tension seeped right back in as he realized that someone was at their door, asking for him. Who could it be? Tony? But he had said that he had other plans. Bruce slowly grasped the door handle and pushed the door open. Before him stood Clint Barton, clad in a warm-looking leather jacket, scarf and jeans. Bruce couldn't do more than gape at the guy.

"Hi, Banner! You've got one stern-looking dad, you know that? I bet you do," Barton said cheerfully. Bruce slipped his feet into a pair of flip flops and stepped outside, to the porch, knowing that his father wouldn't like the cold air entering the house nor the presence of another teenager.

"What are you doing here, Barton?" he asked as he closed the door. It was a bit chilly without proper shoes or his coat, but Bruce could cope with it for a while. Barton eyed him with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't get you panties in a twist, Banner. I just came in case you wanted to have fun," the archer answered. Bruce scoffed.

"No, thanks," he said solemnly as he took a hold of the door handle, attempting to get back in.

"Stark'd be there too," Barton let out and that made Bruce freeze.  _What?_

"Tony said he had something to do today," he replied, turning to face Barton again. Seemingly satisfied with Bruce's reaction, Barton smirked again.

"Yeah, he was going to a party. That one junior, Olson, is throwing one at his place. I was wondering if Tony took you with him, since it's open for anyone, but apparently not." Bruce hadn't even known there was a party. He felt his cheeks heat and he glared angrily at the sophomore before him. He also felt a little hurt that Tony hadn't told him anything (Bruce wasn't really a partygoer, but still), yet in the end, it was Tony's business where he went, and Tony's only. Whether he told his friends or not was up to him. And it wasn't like Bruce hadn't known about Tony's reputation as a party animal before he had decided to befriend him.

"And how is this your concern?" he asked Barton. The guy stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking at his feet but still smiling.

"It's not." Well, at least Barton had the guts to admit that. "I was just interested, that's all. But hey! If you've got nothing important going on right now, which I highly doubt," Barton added, totally unnecessarily in Bruce's opinion, eyeing the genius' attire. "then wanna tag along? I'm gonna pick up Natasha first, but we could meet there?" Bruce's eyes widened at the surprise. He quickly sobered though and scratched his head.

"What time is it?" Barton peeked at his smartphone.

"19:34. It started about half an hour ago, but probably almost everyone is there already. Including Stark." Bruce pursed his lips in thought. He wasn't really interested, but he wanted to see Tony. However he didn't want Tony to feel cramped by him. After a moment he sighed.

"I don't know, I'm really not the type to-"

"Okay, no prob, man. I'll leave you the address anyway, if you change your mind. Nat and I'll wait for five minutes before Olson's house at 20:15 if you decide to show up." Barton winked as he almost forcefully grabbed Bruce's hand and wrote the address there with a ballpoint pen. "See ya, hopefully!" he quipped and took off. Bruce stared after the sophomore before casting his eyes upon the letters and digits scrawled on the back of his hand.

After a while of inspecting his hand, he pulled the door open and stepped inside. He rubbed his hands together in attempt to warm them up when he heard his father's voice sounding from the living room.

"Who was it?" Bruce looked at his dad, still enchanted by the passive stream of light coming from the TV. Oh right, this was one of the reasons why no one should ever visit them.

"Just someone from school," he decided to go with, not wanting to think about the encounter any more.

"What did he want?" his dad kept pushing. Bruce felt irritated.

"Nothing, just some school stuff," he lied. His father glanced at Bruce.

"Don't lie to me," the man growled. "And I bet I've told your sorry ass that I don't want to see any teenagers in this household. Except you of course, but you're my problem, they aren't" Brian Banner snickered and took a swig of his beer as he turned his head back towards the TV.

"Yeah, sorry," Bruce said, noticing too late he didn't sound sorry at the faintest. His father's eyes snapped back at him.

"You pay some respect to your old man,  _brat,_ " he said lowly. Bruce felt the worry from past days (about Tony and Hammer), anger, disappointment and irritation from today and the worthless and miserable feelings of his _whole_ _fucking life_  piling up and then erupting within him, surging out.

"I'll pay you some respect when you earn it," he said and was surprised by the low rumble underlaying his voice. His father seemed surprised too, before his face grew dark.

"You little  _shit_ ," Brian Banner hissed, the bottle in his hand starting to look a lot like a weapon. It was a sign for Bruce to run into his room, to some kind of safety. He sprinted and after he'd closed the door, he locked it with a chair barred against it. He heard his father yelling and swearing right behind his door, banging it with his fists and feet. Bruce let himself relax from his rigid position when he heard the raging receding, the man probably already too drunk to maintain interest for so long. Bruce just hoped that his mother was somewhere else. Nevertheless, he wouldn't stay here for another second. Let it be the damn party, anywhere was better than here.

Bruce hustled to his wardrobe and opened the first drawer. He couldn't avoid thinking how Tony would know exactly what Bruce should wear. He shrugged the thought away, and rummaged through all the drawers and decided to go with dark jeans and a t-shirt similar to the one he had lent Tony. Bruce glanced at the mirror, carded his fingers through his hair and then turned around. He pulled on his sneakers and tucked his phone, wallet and keys into his pockets. Then the genius kicked the chair away and skidded to the entryway. Not two seconds had passed when his father's looming figure appeared in the center of the common area.

"Where do you think you're going?" inquired the man he would've perhaps called 'dad' in some other dimension.

"Away," Bruce answered as he shrugged his coat on and exited through the door. He heard Brian Banner screaming his name and stumbling after him, but the wind in his ears drowned it away as he ran across the driveway and to the sidewalk. He kept running until he reached another block, only then stopping to catch his breath. He glanced at his wristwatch he had put on back in his room.  _19:53 PM._ Then he looked at the address on his hand again. It would take about fifteen minutes to reach the location in question, so he wasn't in a hurry. All the same, Bruce walked with a quick pace in the dark evening.

 

* * *

 

Bruce instantly concluded that he didn't like parties. It was all loud music, too much drunk people, too much drunk people nearly walking over you and the flashing lights giving Bruce a headache. He hated it (though Barton kept telling him that he would love it after a few drinks, earning a slap to his head from Romanov). Bruce ducked past staggering, drunken teens, trying to catch a glimpse of Tony. It was too cramped and dim, and Bruce cursed inwardly.

When he finally saw his favourite genius, it was with a pretty brunette pressed against him. She pushed Tony to sit on a chair, Tony laughing and holding his hand out so that he wouldn't spill his drink. Then the girl was all over him, kissing his pink lips and sitting in his lap like it belonged to her. Bruce felt jealous (and freaking _hurt)_ to the core (and again he shouldn't, since they  _yet again weren't dating)_ and curled his hands into fists. He turned and walked to the opposite direction. He reached the lobby as he was stopped by Mandy Price. Bruce was just asking to be excused, when he shoved Bruce against the wall near them. It was somewhat out of the sight, and before Bruce could protest, the girl kissed him sloppily, tasting of cheap alcohol. It wasn't the first time Bruce had kissed someone (he  _had_ had a fling in the last year of mid-school, with a girl called Betty Ross, whom he had talked to a few times over. Afterwards Betty had told Bruce that she had a crush on him, kissed him sweetly and then skedaddled, leaving Bruce baffled and blushing. The next day Bruce had heard that Betty had moved to some faraway state with her family. So that was all there was to it), but it still made him blush rapidly and widen his eyes. Price freed his mouth and leaned back a bit to look at Bruce, not letting go of his shoulders.

"Aw, you're soooo cute," she gurgled and giggled. Bruce felt himself flush even more. Why would Mandy Price...? "You're friends 'ith Tony, right?" Oh, so this was about Tony then. Bruce was irked by the fact that he was being used (or at least being poorly  _tried_ to use) and because this girl thought she had  _any_ chances for Tony (not that he had any but _she_  certainly didn't). He huffed and pushed Price off of him. He walked fast so that she couldn't catch him again, and went to get a drink of his own. It seemed like a good idea now. Though she was really persistent and got a hold of Bruce's hand soon after.

"C'mon, Brandon-"

"Bruce," he corrected automatically.

"-Bruce, let's 'ave some fuuuun," Price slurred and her black, curly hair shook as she giggled again. Bruce scrunched up his nose.

"No, thanks, Price," he told her firmly, trying to jerk her hand away from where it clung to his arm.

"Yourrr no fun! Don't be so uptight," she said and pulled Bruce's head down for another kiss. Bruce grimaced mentally. Suddenly the girl's lips and the girl were gone though, and Bruce looked up to see what had happened. Tony was standing before him, looking illegally  _sexy,_ in tight jeans and just as tight t-shirt with a broad neckline. He was holding Mandy by her shoulder and looking at Bruce. Bruce felt the ground drop from beneath his feet. So Tony and Mandy Price really  _did_ have more than Tony let to show? Bruce felt his frown deepen at the thought but didn't otherwise let his body display his storming emotions.

"Bruce," Tony said softly, his voice breaking slightly to Bruce's ears. Bruce didn't have time to say anything before Price was sliding her hand up Tony's chest.

"Tony, we'e you jealous? You know I only 'ave eyes for youuu really," she told Tony, most likely aiming for an innocent yet seductive voice, but failing thanks to her current drunken state. Tony seemed to literally tear his eyes from Bruce to look at Price (and Bruce felt himself hate the  _bitch_ more and more every passing second) and grabbed her wrist with his right hand. He removed the hand from his chest and let go of Price, all at once. He didn't say anything, just walked towards Bruce and snatched his wrist in turn, pulling him outside with him. A nosy group of high schoolers followed them, wanting to see the apparent fight, but when Tony saw them he waved his hand at them and yelled,

"Back off, fuckers! We aren't gonna fight!" Tony's words were a bit slurred, but he go the message through and the teens returned inside, some looking a bit disappointed. Then Tony turned back to Bruce.

"Why are you here?" he asked, voice tight. Bruce narrowed his eyes a little.

"Barton came to get me. Is there a problem, Tony?" He crossed his arms defensively. He was pissed off at this whole day. Tony stayed silent for a while, and Bruce couldn't help how his own glare melted a little softer as the seconds passed.

"Bruce..." Tony then said and studied intently Bruce's face and eyes.

"What is it?" Bruce tried to hurry the conversation. He wasn't in the mood for this. Not now.

"I'm... I'm sorry I didn't tell you that there was a 'arty," Tony began, slightly staggering so Bruce took a hold of his upper arm. Tony glanced at his hand and continued, "but I thought ya wouldn't approve and I, like, rrrealllly felt like I needed it now." Bruce looked worriedly at his friend. So something had happened.

"Why? Tony?" he shook Tony a bit to get him look Bruce in the eye.

"Just 'cus..." Silence again. "...reasons," the drunken genius said, shrugging, and giggled. Bruce frowned at him.

"Tony..."

"Sorry, that's all I've got to say for now, but 'ey, come with me back in, I can hook you up with some girls if you wanna..." Tony drawled, but Bruce didn't want to see his friend, his  _crush,_ making out with everyone except _him_ nor did he want to make out with anyone himself, sans Tony of course. But he didn't want to leave Tony alone either. Romanov had said that at least Killian was at the party and Hammer might make an appearance too. So, giving up with the information for now, he tugged at Tony to get him back inside with him.

"Yeah, no thanks." Tony chuckled some more but followed Bruce.

In the end, Bruce drank a few cups of something that tasted awful (thanks to his dad he didn't very much fancy alcohol anyway). He was feeling a bit tipsy, but Tony was getting rather drunk. He had refrained from making out all the time, just occasionally groping or being groped by someone. Bruce was vexed by it.

Now anyway, it had been quiet for a while where they were sitting (sans the music that was there constantly), and Tony suddenly got up.

"I'm gonna get 's more drinks, 'k?" he asked as he stumbled backwards a bit. Bruce looked at him skeptically, but thought that it wasn't that long of a trip either way.

"'K," he answered and watched Tony smirk at him before turning away.

It had felt like a good idea, since Bruce felt that he too could use some more alcohol. Only that Tony didn't come back for another ten minutes. Bruce fiddled with his shirt for a while in worry, got up and went to look for his friend. He went through the whole house, finally finding the genius in question, in an empty hallway downstairs, being pinned against a wall by Killian. The senior was kissing Tony and licking his neck in turns, right hand roaming all over Tony's body. Tony didn't look like he was consenting, hands held solely by Killians left one, feet kicking in the air, slurring  _ ~~fucking~~_  'no's ~~how could that fucker not get it~~  and threats at the guy holding him. They were in the position that Bruce had witnessed once before, Tony straddling Killian's hips, only now Killian was also slowly _rutting_  against Tony, his raging hard-on a visible bulge under his jeans. The football player was obviously drunk or high (or both), and his actions seemed even more forceful than usual.

Bruce all but ran, hitting Killian's side hard with his own. The senior stumbled, abashed, and Bruce moved fast to catch Tony before the teen had the chance to hit the floor. As a result he cradled Tony's head between his arms, taking support from the wall before him as Tony grabbed Bruce's shoulders, burying his face in his neck.

"Bruce," Tony called, voice soft and wavering, hands grasping at his shirt frantically. "Oh my gosh, Bruciebruciebrucie-"

"Shhh, Tony. You're alright, you're all good," he tried to reassure his best and only friend (and perhaps himself too), interrupting the slurred babble. He stroked the back of Tony's head and neck, rocking him slightly. That must have really freaked him out (it had at least freaked Bruce out), since he was so shaken. Tony pressed himself harder against Bruce, face remaining hidden from gazes, and Bruce felt his own uneasiness and worry grow stronger. They were still standing and Bruce felt uncomfortable pressure in his knees.

"I'm gonna put you down now, Tony, 'kay?" Bruce asked as he started lowering himself. Tony didn't answer, but didn't let go of Bruce either. Tony was sitting on the floor, hands still wrapped around Bruce's neck, who was kneeling there before him, when the more sober one of the two heard Killian make a move on their left. Bruce snapped his head to see what the footballer was up to (he highly doubted it'd be anything good).

"You," Killian lisped, glaring daggers at Bruce. "I'm gonna  _kill_ you!" The threat would've probably been more terrifying if it hadn't been so hard to make out what Killian was even saying, but Bruce still got the message. He didn't know what to say that wouldn't aggravate the senior though, so he remained speechless, just eyed the guy warily. Tony still hadn't let go of him and he gave in to the urge to look back at his crush. If Bruce could frown any more, he probably would be doing that right now. He knew that it was at least fifty percent of alcohol making Tony this shook-up, but he still couldn't stop himself from smoothing his hands all over Tony's arms, head and shoulders and hushing him at the same. He was forced to pay attention to his surroundings though, when Killian started yelling at them. Bruce tried to remove Tony's hands, but as his attempts deemed themselves futile, he opted to go with tightening his own hold around Tony. Then the unintelligible screeching turned louder and Killian started pacing towards them. Bruce cupped Tony's head with his hand, trying to cover and protect the guy he loved from the forthcoming danger as much as possible. Tony also tightened his grip around Bruce, he vaguely noticed.

"Hey!" Killian was tackled to the ground by two masses of muscle and blond hair. Bruce eyed them, astonished. The first one to rise from the unruly pile on the floor was Steve Rogers. Oh God. Bruce's life had become so surreal after he had met Tony. The junior approached them, concern in his grave, blue eyes.

"Are you guys alright?" he asked and knelt next to them, eyeing Tony particularly.

"Yeah, we are," Bruce said. "He's just a bit shaken. And drunk," He continued, patting Tony's back and looking for a reaction that didn't come. "Thanks," he added, now looking Rogers in the eyes.

"No need to thank. I, or we actually, don't exactly like bullies." Bruce huffed, smiling faintly.

"You're the second one to tell me that this week." Rogers looked a bit surprised, but smiled back at Bruce anyway. They both looked behind the football captain's back as Barton and Romanov appeared to the hallway too.

"You were right, there was something going on," Rogers told them, looking between the couple and Thor Odinson holding Killian bodily against the floor. Bruce looked at Barton and Romanov.

"Thanks to you too," he said to them, watching small smiles flicker on their faces. "And you also," he called to Odinson, who waved his hand as an answer.

"How's Stark?" Romanov asked Bruce. He shifted his gaze to Romanov and then to the genius in his arms. He kept rubbing Tony's back.

"Drunk, he'll be better in the morning." Tony was being unnervingly still. Bruce glanced at his watch, which was already nearing eleven, so he decided that they should start heading home. "Okay, Tony. Can you stand?" he asked, patting Tony gently again. Tony was quiet for a little moment.

"I t'ink I might throw up," he said a bit weakly, not moving a muscle.

"Get him to bed, Banner," Barton quipped, though not meanly. 

"That's the plan," Bruce replied and pulled Tony up with him. The teen was completely wasted. "Hey, Tony! Buddy, you with me?" Tony nodded vaguely. "Can you walk?" He hummed in either approval or disapproval and Bruce rolled his eyes but didn't stop frowning. His face would hurt tomorrow from all the strain.

"Bruce..."

"Yeah, yeah, we're leaving now, Tony. Let me go, so I can walk you to..." Bruce paused as he started wondering how he was going to get Tony back.

"To my car," captain supplied, and Bruce thanked heavens for Steve Rogers.

"...to Rogers' car, okay?" Bruce was certain he was making progress when Tony raised his head to look at Bruce. God, he looked smashed. "Tony?" he prodded when the genius in his arms made no further moves.

"Yeah, okay," Tony answered in the end, loosening his hold. Bruce swiftly dislodged the hands, then as swiftly pulled the other behind his neck, holding the wrist with his right hand, as his left hand moved to hold Tony's side, pressing the teen's other side against his own. They walked slowly after Rogers, minding furniture and high moldings. Barton and Romanov helped them to avoid curious gazes as Odinson stayed behind to hold still the cursing Killian. The captain's car wasn't parked that far, and Bruce pushed Tony to the backseat, following right after. Baton threw their coats to them and as Bruce closed the door, Tony immediately let his head drop on his shoulder. Rogers took the driver's seat as Bruce brushed at Tony's sweaty locks.

"Where to?" he asked. Bruce met the junior's eyes through the rear-view mirror.

"You know where's Stark mansion?" A nod. "Then there, please," Bruce asked politely, turning back to Tony. The boy was staring, and apparently dazed by Bruce's jawline. So, still as drunk as before, even though Bruce now felt completely sober himself. The engine started softly and the car begun moving forward.

"You sure you're all good?" Rogers broke the silence after a while of driving. He looked genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Bruce answered. He still wasn't sure if he was trying to convince the junior or himself. Tony was so out of it, and Bruce couldn't stop worrying about it.

"Okay then," Bruce heard Rogers say. They proceeded the rest of their journey not uttering a word. When the mansion appeared before them and Rogers pulled over, the captain made a move to get to aid them.

"No, don't," Bruce halted him. "We can take it from here. Thanks, really." Bruce was honestly grateful, but he (nor Tony, he was certain) didn't want to be too dependent. Rogers eyed them with concern and suspicion, but seemed to understand.

"Yeah, don't mention it," he answered, glancing at his hands on the wheel. "But if you guys ever need help, just ask, OK? I know how Killian can get sometimes." Rogers smiled at them, bright, blue eyes full of warmth. Bruce blinked tiredly and also cracked a small smile.

"OK," he said curtly and exited the car, pulling Tony up with him. He slammed the door shut and replied to Rogers' nod with one of his own. The engine roared to life again, and the blue vehicle took off a moment after Bruce had started walking placidly to the main entrance, Tony hanging by his side. He ringed the bell, and was relieved to see Jarvis opening the door. (He wasn't sure if these were the best circumstances for a first encounter with Tony's parents. And also he quite liked the elderly man.) Jarvis' face paled and his expression filled with concern.

"Mr. Banner, is sir-"

"Yes, sorry Jarvis," Bruce cut the butler off. "He's okay, just drunk." Jarvis held his eyes and gave a firm nod.

"I see. I'm sorry to bother you further, Mr. Banner, but could you assist me in escorting sir to his room?" The man asked as he reached his hand to take a hold of Tony's arm.

"Of course," Bruce answered immediately. They climbed the spacious stairs, Tony twitching between awareness and unconsciousness. Finally though, they reached the door to Tony's room and nearly dragged Tony onto the bed.

"Thank you," Jarvis said, bowing his head a bit. "It's not the first time sir has had to be carried to bed after a wild night." The butler glanced at the teenager sprawled on the bed. "But there'd been no need for that, as of recently. You have a good impact on sir, Mr. Banner." Jarvis turned to look Bruce in the eye, and Bruce felt himself blush at the kind words. "If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know. And if you currently require ride to your home that can be arranged. Or if you would rather spend the night here, then that's not a problem either." Jarvis was just too good to be true. Bruce wanted nothing but to stay the night with Tony (and in addition NOT go home), but he didn't want to be dependent, once again.

"Um, that's okay, I think I'll just get back home-"

"Staying," Tony mumbled from the bed. Bruce turned to look at Tony, who was repeating his command at the moment, more breathier this time around. Jarvis chuckled softly before him and Bruce turned to look at the man. He too moved his head to meet Bruce's gaze.

"I'm afraid I must insist," Jarvis smiled at him. Bruce huffed, but didn't argue. Instead he walked up to Tony's bed and sat there. Jarvis smirked more.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, Mr. Banner." The butler stepped to the door and grasped the knob.

"Yeah, thanks Jarvis." Another nod and Jarvis was gone. Bruce let his smile fade a bit. He leaned backwards and stroked a hand through Tony's hair. He stopped when he realized what he was doing and moved his hand to Tony's shoulder instead.

"Are you alright, Tony?" he asked softly. Tony cracked his eyes open, staring at Bruce.

"Yeah, sorry," he finally answered. "Just got a bit startled. Plus the alcohol. Makes everything more extreme." Bruce frowned.

"You've the right to feel scared, Tony."

"Stark men are made of steel," Tony quipped groggily, closing his eyes again. It sounded like Tony was quoting someone. Bruce couldn't think of anyone but one person.

"Oh, come on! That's just stupid," he said, giving Tony a small shove. "I was scared, and I wasn't the one nearly  _raped._ " Bruce was sure that Killian would've raped Tony if he hadn't interfered. The thought made Bruce's skin crawl in rage.  _What an animal._

Tony winced faintly at the 'rape' part, but didn't otherwise comment. Bruce sighed.

"You've been bothered by something lately, haven't you?" He felt Tony tense where his hand still rested on his shoulder. But he was determined not to back up. _"Tell me._ Please, I want to help you. That's why you went to that stupid party too, right? Why did you  _'need'_ to go?" Bruce cited his friend. Tony opened his eyes again slowly and snaked his hand to Bruce's wrist. The foggy look in his eyes conveyed that he was still drunk, but perhaps he was getting the better of it already. Tony used the hold on Bruce's wrist as a leverage to help him get to sit up, and Bruce never let the other hand on Tony's shoulder get dislodged.

"It's just 'cus..." Tony's face was really close to his own and Bruce could smell the sour scent of alcohol, but also the sweet one of Tony. "...'Cus you w're so mean, Brucie."  _What? Me?_ Tony was looking somewhat pissed off. "I thought we... But then you said it so harshly." Now he was starting to sound kind of watery. Bruce felt his anxiety levels rise. "And then 'ith _Mandy._ " Now his rage levels were rising. So this _was_ about Price. Bruce wanted to hide in a corner and howl and cry there. "B'uce I'm sovvy, I just..." Tony drew in a shuddering breath. Bruce waited in terror for what was to come next. "...I just love you so much." _WHAT?_ Tony was breaking into drunken sobs by now and Bruce couldn't believe his ears. He grasped the sides of Tony's head after Tony did the same to his neck and shoulders. He still couldn't believe it. "So much," Tony repeated, his voice almost a whisper now. Bruce felt his eyes start watering too. Did Tony really mean it? What is this? Tony made a move as if to reach Bruce's lips with his own, and Bruce's breath caught in his throat. But then, suddenly, the teen collapsed heavily against his shoulder. Bruce froze at the spot and dared to move only after a second, when calm breathing reached his ears.

 _Conked out._ Bruce closed his eyes and pulled the passed out guy closer to his chest. He felt horrible to be the cause of Tony's sadness (though the truth was the complete contrary to what Tony'd been thinking!), but at the same  _so freaking happy_. Bruce felt like he could start crying out of joy and guilt and at the same like he could run across the globe in seconds, right now.  _Oh my god._ Bruce pressed a light kiss against Tony's forehead before placing him lying on the bed. He stripped Tony and himself from their shoes and pulled the covers over Tony. He got in too, and after settling comfortably, watched Tony's peaceful face.

 _Tony freaking Stark loves me,_ was the last thought in his head before he drifted into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone got my James Bond reference! (when Tony called Fury M)
> 
> Comment or leave kudos if you liked it! <3


	5. Our feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii again! <3
> 
> So this chapter is a tad shorter than usually, and it's because I wanted to update this fic and also because the previous chapter was extra long. But anyway I hope you'll enjoy it (and I'm rather positive that you will...)!
> 
> I have a new WIP, so from now it might take a little more time for me to update. Please bear with me! And for you guys who are interested, it's another frostiron fic. :)

Bruce woke up slowly to the dim morning light coloring Tony's snazzy room bright. He felt a little tender, but since he hadn't drunk that much, he wasn't suffering from a hangover. Though Tony probably was, as he had been  _blasted_ the previous night. Bruce smiled fondly when he thought about Tony (although he was a bit concerned) and turned to look at the genius lying next to him.

Only to see that there was  _no_ genius lying next to him.  _What?_ Had it all been an alcohol induced dream? But - he looked around him - it  _was_ Tony's room. Bruce scrambled up from the bed and took a better look at the room. Tony's clothes of yesterday were scattered on the floor, where he had seemingly changed.

_So not a dream, good._ Bruce let out a breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding.

His shoes were gone, and when Bruce glanced at the clock it showed 8:11 AM. Where would Tony be around eight on a Saturday morning? Other than his bed, that is.

He quickly pulled his shoes on, detouring via Tony's bathroom, and nearly ran from the teen's room. His cell and other belongings where fortunately still in his pockets and he grabbed the outdated device. Only to remember he didn't have Tony's number.  _Damn._ Why didn't he have it? When he found him, the first thing he was going to do was exchanging contact information.

Downstairs he was met by Jarvis.

"Good morning, Mr. Banner," he greeted.

"Um, morning Jarvis," Bruce answered. He glanced if Tony was anywhere to be seen from the lobby. "Have you seen Tony?" he asked as he turned back to the butler. Jarvis pursed his lips.

"Young sir left the premises around half past seven. I'm afraid I can't help you with where he went, as he didn't share it with me," he told Bruce, looking worried. Bruce swallowed.

"Don't worry, Jarvis. I'll go look for him," he told the man. The look in Jarvis' eyes instantly turned to hopeful and he quickly retrieved Bruce's coat.

"Thank you, Mr. Banner," he said with warmth in his voice, handing Bruce his clothing.

"Just call me Bruce," the sophomore smiled as he pulled his coat on. Jarvis nodded, smiling too.

"Bruce," he corrected. Bruce cast a final look at the man, before strolling out. Now, where would Tony go? He set to run, and first followed the road he always walked on his own way to home from the mansion. He eyed the fancy houses and their yards, but didn't saw the familiar figure of Tony. As he came to the district where he could either turn towards his home or to the village centre, he chose to go to the centre. He didn't want to go near home, and it was very unlikely that Tony'd be there.

Bruce walked along the well cared sidewalks, trying to catch a glimpse of Tony. There weren't many people up and around this early on a Saturday, but Tony wasn't one of the people Bruce cast his eyes upon.

He kept walking and looking, passing the park and the few children playing there, glancing into shops where he thought Tony might be, visiting the library and there the shelves containing physics and engineering books, and as he left he bypassed the table they had occasionally occupied weeks back, then continued walking some more and checking the alleys and other spots where teens usually hung out (though he did it rather swiftly since he didn't want to be seen by the said teens, if there ever was any) and finally the school courtyard. The genius was out of breath, but still he hadn't found his friend.

Why had Tony left? Did he even remember his words from yesterday? More importantly, did he  _regret_ them? It felt like an icy hand had gotten a grip of Bruce's stomach. That couldn't be it. He continued on his quick pace. It was starting to tilt towards spring already, but it was still cool, and Bruce felt his nose freezing. His hands where fisted in his coat's pockets to keep them warm. He couldn't help but worry about Tony, and whether he was nearing hypothermia already, as he had left even earlier than Bruce. He hoped not.

When the sophomore next time glanced at his watch, it was already almost half past nine. Where could he be? There was only a few places he had yet to check, so he changed directions and started heading away from the centre. A little farther away (actually it was near their school), there was another park, one where you could take long walks with your dog or go jogging. He doubted Tony'd be there, but it was one of the options.

He stepped fast, trying to find the most isolated part of the park, since he was sure that Tony wouldn't stay near the gravel paths, even when there was only a handful of people passing there. He navigated to where he could see their school's fences and looked over the small plaza, rounded by trees and placed pretty far from the tracks.

In the middle of the clearing, there was a shabby wooden table and two benches on its sides. A teen was perched on top of the table, sitting with his legs folded and spine bent, looking down his lap. In his hands there was a neat book, spread full of text written with small font, which he seemed to be reading, and next to him on the table lay a smartphone. It was set on display like he was waiting for a call or a text. Bruce smiled a little.

"Tony," he called. The teen jumped and nearly fell to the ground. He snapped the book shut (it was about motor vehicles and their engines, Bruce noted) and scrambled down from the table. He turned to look at Bruce with a frightened expression. Tony was pale from the cold and he had dark rings under his eyes, most likely because of his apparent hangover and lack of sleep.

"Um, hey, Bruce," he replied, clutching his book against his tummy, right hand pursing his phone in his palm. "What's up?" the genius continued, grinning his usual grin briefly at Bruce. Bruce pursed his lips.

"Nothing, I was just looking for you," he answered, eyeing Tony's face. "You okay?" Tony blinked and nodded, glancing at the ground. "Good. So, um, about yesterday..."

"Um," Tony interrupted Bruce's drawling. "If you could just... forget, about it. Okay?" So Tony did remember. But wait,  _what?_  Bruce felt a frown forming on his face.

"Why?" he asked incredulously and took a step towards Tony. The fellow sophomore looked like he wanted to back away, but stayed put. Bruce frowned some more.

"It's just, you know, I know you don't like the whole playboy ordeal and I have  _known_ since the very beginning that it wouldn't work out and-"

"Why wouldn't it work out?" Bruce interfered, now determinately approaching Tony.  _Now_  his friend took a few steps back.

"Because you're so good and I'm  _me_  and you have that thing with Jane or maybe even with _Mandy_ and _I'm sorry,_ I must  _disgust_ you butnnmh-" Tony's near desperate rambling was cut off when Bruce crashed his lips with his own. He grasped the sides of Tony's head to keep the boy still as he kissed him. It felt even more  _amazing_ than he had ever imagined.

"Bruh-" Tony tried to break the contact, but Bruce couldn't allow it right now. He caught the soft lips back again, effectively silencing the attempt to call his name. Right now he needed to confirm his feelings to Tony. He sucked hard at the teen's lower lip, and felt the guy in his arms shiver at that, as Bruce slid his hands across his body; one down his back and the other back his scull.

Bruce felt the hands between their bodies jolt, and heard a dull clatter as they let go of their holdings and wormed around Bruce's middle, then surging up his back to hold his shoulders. It felt _too good._

Still kissing his crush, Bruce walked forward until Tony's back hit the tree behind him. Tony gave a muffled moan that went right down to Bruce's crotch, making him groan in turn. He pressed their bodies together and as their lower bodies touched, Bruce felt Tony's erection rubbing against his own through their jeans' fabric. Bruce moaned in tandem with Tony.  _Too good._

He tightened his hold around Tony, who did the same, and drew in a long breath through his nose. He smelled, felt and _tasted_ Tony, and it felt overwhelming. He had to break the kiss to catch his breath.

He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to the wonderful sight of Tony. The genius was also panting slightly, cheeks tinted pink, eyes still closed and lips gleaming and red from their kiss. It was the most beautiful thing Bruce had ever seen.

He retracted his hands and quickly placed them back to the sides of Tony's face. The brunette didn't otherwise stir, just flinched slightly at the movement, keeping his eyes closed. Bruce pressed a light kiss to his lips.

"I," another kiss to his cheek, "love," other cheek, "you," forehead, nose and lips again. "Tony Stark," he finished as he pressed his forehead against Tony's. Tony opened his eyes, full of emotion. Those eyes warmed Bruce to the core and he found himself answering the sophomore's smile with one of his own.

"I love you too, Bruce Banner," Tony said, almost a whisper, and kissed Bruce again. The second kiss was slow and  _loving,_ and Bruce felt like he was melting. He hugged Tony against himself and caressed his back and his neck gently. It was perfect.

Eventually though, they had to cease, and Bruce felt a little disappointed with that, but content. It didn't even feel cold anymore. They stayed on their feet there, lowering hands to hold the other's ones, still pressed together.

"So," Tony broke the silence with a slightly raw voice. "Boyfriends?" he asked and grinned at Bruce, staring into his eyes. Bruce chuckled and gave a quick peck to Tony's lips.

"Boyfriends," he confirmed, inwardly squealing from happiness.

 

* * *

 

After a while, they were walking on one of the tracks, holding hands and not caring if anyone saw. There weren't that many people out anyway. Tony was holding his book in the crook of his arm and talking happily about his new projects and ideas. Bruce eyed the genius in daze, occasionally asking or answering something to his  _boyfriend's_ rambling. They arrived back to the centre, and went to a local canteen to grab some breakfast (as neither of them had yet had any). They chose a booth with a window, and Bruce promised to pay for their orders since Tony didn't have any money on him, and tried to assure the genius that it was OK and that he didn't have to pay it back double or anything.

"So," Bruce began after their meals had arrived. "How's your head? You didn't look very good yesterday." Tony eyed his pancakes dubiously but anyway cut a piece.

"Well, I do have a killer headache, but I don't feel like I'm going to puke anymore, so I guess I'll be okay and manage to eat these delicious pancakes," he answered and shoved the said food into his mouth. The other corner of Bruce's mouth quirked up. He glanced down and cut a piece of his bacon.

"Good to know. What about Killian then?" Tony froze momentarily, then chewed and swallowed.

"Are you _trying_ to make me throw up?" he asked, smirking, and making Bruce roll his eyes. Tony went back to his pancakes. "What about Killian?"

"You know what about him," Bruce said, frowning and taking a bite of his food.

"No, I don't." More pancake gobbling.

"Yeah, you do. Do you want me to elaborate? Answer the question, Tony." Tony glared at Bruce childishly, munching his food. He swallowed before countering.

"I'm fine. And now I've got you to protect me, right?" he wiggled his eyebrows and smiled smugly (yet warmly) at Bruce. Bruce sighed but smiled back just as warmly.

"Yeah, you do." Tony's smile widened a notch and he leaned over the table to place a quick kiss to Bruce's lips. Bruce met him halfway.

As he kissed Tony, Bruce caught a glimpse of a familiar crossroad near the canteen. Behind it was the shop where he worked.

"Shit!" he exclaimed and pulled his phone from his pocket. Three missed calls and two text messages.  _Fuck!_

"What?" Tony inquired, eyeing Bruce's movements.

"I have work today, and I was supposed to be there," he glanced at a clock on the wall.  _10:23 AM._ " _over an hour ago?!"_ He quickly staggered from between the seat and the table and almost fell to the floor. He heard Tony sputtering into laugh.

"Don't  _laugh,_ you dumbass!" he ordered as he tried to shrug his coat on. Tony continued to cackle.

"I'm sorry, babe. It's my fault," he apologized between giggles, covering his mouth with his palm. Bruce's gaze softened at the sight.

"It's okay," he said as he bent down to kiss his lover. "I'm glad we got to sort things out." Bruce smirked at the genius before him, who chuckled and pulled Bruce down from his collar to give him one more quick peck. Then he shoved at him.

"Go. See you later, dope," he told, turning to his food. Bruce smiled. He pulled his wallet and gave enough money to pay for their orders to Tony, who eyed the bills with disdain. He kissed his forehead before turning around.

"Yeah, text me. And go home, Jarvis's worried sick!" he called to him as he started to leave. Luckily they had already exchanged numbers (though it hadn't been the _first_ thing he had done) on their way to eat, so he didn't have to stay and do that first.

"Yeah, yeah," he heard Tony call back, smile audible in his voice. It made Bruce smile even broader, and he didn't loose his good mood even as he ran to the shop and got scolded by the owner. He felt that his day couldn't get any better than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> <3


	6. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT**
> 
> So, this chapter is like 75% smut and 25% fluff. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I'M REALLY SORRY IT'S BEEN SO AWFULLY LONG SINCE I LAST UPDATED. I've been really busy and then I've updated other fics. If anyone's still reading this, then thank you and sorry very much. ;_; ♥
> 
> So, as said this chapter includes (to my mind) LOTS OF SMUT and it's my first time writing smut so sorry in advance if it's horrible XDDD Feedback is as always appreciated.
> 
> But hey! Last chapter! Thanks for reading this far, I really hope you enjoyed the ride!! :)

The junior prom was nearing.

Bruce and Tony'd been going out for roughly one and half months now, and they were in the bit where everything was comfortable and easy, yet new and exciting. They had decided not to tell anyone yet, though they had made a few exceptions on their new, homemade group of friends (including Natasha, Clint, Steve and Thor) as well as on Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. Bruce hadn't felt this happy and content with his life probably ever.

But with the prom nearing, he was just a huge ball of nerves. It wasn't so much about asking Tony to go with him or Tony asking him (which had already been taken care of, mind you), but more like coming out in front of the whole school. But they had already agreed that they were going to do it. It was about  _them_ creating memories and living to the fullest together, so they weren't going to get scared because of peer pressure or anything equally childish.

"Hey," Tony said behind his back, sliding his hands around Bruce's shoulders. Bruce had been sitting at the edge of the said teen's bed. "Watcha thinking about, Brucie?" He turned to look at his genius boyfriend in the eye. The curly haired teen grasped one of the hands circling his neck and squeezed gently and adoringly.

"Nothing," he said and pressed a soft kiss on the lips before him. Tony quirked his eyebrow at Bruce's answer.

"Don't try to distract me, Casanova," Bruce rolled his eyes, "I know you're worrying about something," Tony continued stubbornly and Bruce had to hold back a fond smile. He sighed and looked at the warm brown eyes again.

"It's just... I was thinking about the prom again," he finally admitted, turning his face away from Tony's scrutinizing gaze. He felt Tony's demeanor soften as he leaned against Bruce.

"Hey," he said and took Bruce's chin, rotating his face to meet his own gaze again. "We've been through this already. It's gonna go okay, I'll take care of you. Plus, you know I no longer hang in the idiot circle," Bruce chuckled softly, "so there's really nothing holding me from you." Tony smiled reassuringly at Bruce and pressed another loving kiss to his lips. Bruce winded his arms around the other teens waist and flipped his legs up to the bed. He turned so that Tony could kneel between his legs, hands casually looped around Bruce's neck. Tony leaned forward so that their foreheads touched. Bruce closed his eyes and merely breathed in the scent of him.

"Thanks," he said after a while, opening his eyes and rubbing his forehead against the other's to encourage Tony to do the same. "For everything, I think." Tony smiled that genuine, bright smile of his and bumped their noses.

"No thanks needed," he said with the warmest tone of voice. Bruce smiled just as brightly and grabbed Tony's neck, pulling his lips against his own. His other hand lingered by the small of Tony's back to keep him tightly flush against his own abdomen. Tony gave a small grunt of surprise and appreciation, grasping Bruce's curls in return and hungrily leaning into the kiss.

Out of the blue, Tony gave Bruce's chest a sharp shove, so that he fell on his back on the bed and their kiss was interrupted. Before Bruce could say anything, Tony had already moved to straddle his hips and was pulling his own cardigan off. He was looking down at Bruce with half-lidded eyes and parted lips, wearing that cocky quirked eyebrow Bruce so adored. The facial expression alone that his boyfriend was sporting, was enough to make the rush of blood in his groin spike, so that he was quickly starting to pitch a tent. Not that he minded, since a brief glance towards Tony's lower regions proved that he wasn't much better off either.

Tony plastered his hands on Bruce's abdomen, and Bruce had to clutch Tony's hips when the guy ground his crotch against the other's.

_He's giving me a fricking LAP DANCE. **  
**_

"Ahh!" Bruce groaned. That thought alone, coupled with  _that view_ and Tony grinding and twisting his ass against him, and Bruce was already ready to come in his pants. So, in order to prolong that event, he moved his right hand from Tony's hipbone and dragged it along the outline of the brunet's shaft through the fabric of his beige jeans.

Tony threw his head backwards and let out a choked moan. Bruce decided to take his chance, rising up fast and grabbing Tony's neck firmly. He kissed and sucked at his throat, drawing yet another moan from the teenager. His other hand crept down Tony's back to his ass, holding them tightly pressed against each other.

Gradually, he begun slowing his pace, and gently trailed his way from Tony's neck to his lips. He kissed Tony sweetly and softly, and Bruce could basically feel Tony melting in his arms. He ended the kiss with a quick peck to the other teen's lips.

"Not yet," he said softly, out of breath and brushed a strand of hair from Tony's forehead. His boyfriend made an adorable pouty face and Bruce couldn't hold back a small chuckle.

"It's totally cool, babe," Tony almost whined, running his fingers against the back of Bruce's skull, carding through the dark curls. "I wanna do it with you," he continued and looked at Bruce through his thick lashes. Bruce smiled sheepishly and leaned against the talented fingers still massaging his scalp.

"I want to make it special, I want to make  _you_ feel special." Tony rolled his eyes exasperatedly, so Bruce took a hold of his hands and caught his gaze again. "I want you to know that I'm here to stay and that it's not just about sex or your body." He brought Tony's hands before him, holding them tightly in his fists. "I want to have you fully and unlike others may have, I don't intend to throw you away once you've given yourself to me." To emphasize his message, Bruce pressed two longing kisses against the hands he was holding. "I love you, Tony," he finished, looking into the world's most beautiful eyes presented before him.

Tony seemed a little starstruck, staring at Bruce with his mouth hanging slightly open and eyes starry. Then he seemed to recover though, faintly shaking his head and bumping Bruce's shoulder with his now released fist.

"Ouch!" Bruce exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder. He looked back up at Tony who looked conflicted, maybe even a bit teary-eyed. It made Bruce start hushing and reaching out in worry, only to have his hand knocked away by the said guy.

"You're such a corny idiot," he grumbled, again pushing Bruce against the mattress to kiss him. It was a sweet yet possessive kiss, and once it ended Tony looked Bruce in the eye. "But you're my corny idiot." Bruce smiled and pulled Tony down for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

Bruce was standing by their porch, waiting for Tony to come pick him up. He was wearing his dad's old suit, a tad too big but otherwise pretty decent-looking one. It was a classical black one, perfected with Bruce's own, dark violet bowtie.

It was prom night, and his dad had asked about his partner, but Bruce really hadn't been sure what to say, so he had said nothing and stormed to his room for cover instead. Brian Banner would under no circumstances accept the fact that his son, let it be the poor excuse of one, was dating a guy. Actually, the thought of him knowing made Bruce have chills. And now he was having a nasty vibe that his father'd be lurking behind the curtains and trying to catch a glimpse of his date.

Bruce wasn't ashamed of Tony, not the slightest, but he was scared of the possibility of his father attacking Tony in his drunken, maniac state. He would first kill Brian Banner than let him harm Tony, let it be twisted or anything else people would call it. Honestly, Bruce would rather go for his love than for an abusive alcoholic.

A familiar Royal Royce stopped before the yard pavement and Bruce rushed towards the backseat. Before Tony could pop his head out of the door he was opening, Bruce had already crammed himself in and slammed the door shut.

"Wow," Tony said with a faint giggle as Bruce buckled himself up. "Someone's in a hurry." Bruce flashed a bored smile at his boyfriend. Tony was clad in a tight, black three-piece suit and a burgundy tie.

"Only when you're involved," Bruce quipped and gave the dashing brunet a quick peck.

"Oh you," Tony laughed, grabbing the curly-haired genius' collar to pull him close.

The ride to the school was short, and Bruce was already eager to get to Tony's place where he was going to spend the night when the car stopped. But dancing with Tony didn't really strike that bad, it actually sounded really nice. It was just the nervousness and a mother-load of stress hormones that was putting him a little off. Oh, and the fact that he was still socially awkward and usually preferred not to mingle.

Unlike Tony, who was a real social butterfly. With him and their friends by his side, it'd go just fine.

They stepped into the corridor together, Bruce squeezing the inside of Tony's elbow. They made their way to the gym, which was decorated to feebly resemble a ballroom or more likely a disco. The lights were dimmed with colored silk paper and the school band was playing slow songs at the stage. Small flickers of light were beaming from a disco light and the walls were covered with art made by students and paper streamer.

As they fully stepped into the gym, people were already starting to stare at them. Bruce felt himself tense instantly, but Tony tugged him harshly towards the dance floor.

"Tony, wait!" Bruce hissed in panic, as more and more eyes turned their way. Also, he could've sworn that some were already whispering to each other.

"No, Bruce!" Tony said and turned to face Bruce, pulling him closer. "This is  _our night_ , remember?" he asked with uncertainty in his voice. It clicked to Bruce that this was just as scary to Tony as it was to him, if not more, since Tony was very much in the public eye. The thought of Tony suffering alone provoked a wave of protectiveness within Bruce, and with its strength Bruce slid his hand to the small of Tony's back and the other to his right hand.

"I remember," he said lowly and brought Tony close to himself. The band was having a break and someone was playing Mariah Carey's  _Without You_ from the stereo and Bruce started stepping to the slow rhythm.

_No I can't forget this evening_  
 _Or your face as you were leaving_  
 _But I guess that's just the way_  
 _The story goes_  
 _You always smile but in your eyes_  
 _Your sorrow shows_  
 _Yes it shows_  
 _No I can't forget tomorrow_  
 _When I think of all my sorrow_  
 _When I had you there_  
 _But then I let you go_  
 _And now it's only fair_  
 _That I should let you know_  
 _What you should know_

For a flashing second Tony looked confused, but then he was already playing along, placing his hand on Bruce's shoulder blade and pushing back against his chest. They kept staring into each other's eyes and even Bruce forgot about the intrusive gazes they were surrounded by. 

_I can't live_  
 _If living is without you_  
 _I can't live_  
 _I can't give anymore_  
 _I can't live_  
 _If living is without you_  
 _I can't give_  
 _I can't give anymore_

Never in his life had Bruce felt more like a song had been this true. Tony was staring into his eyes with awe and love in his own. His muscles were relaxed and Bruce could tell he felt safe there with him. He pressed his forehead against the other's, breathing in his scent with closed eyes.

_Well I can't forget this evening_  
 _Or your face as you were leaving_  
 _But I guess that's just the way_  
 _The story goes_  
 _You always smile but in your eyes_  
 _Your sorrow shows_  
 _Yes it shows_

It was beginning to feel more like holding onto each other or slow dancing rather than actually dancing, but they couldn't care less. It was just the most perfect moment, and Bruce felt Tony squeeze harder, as if to get him impossibly even closer.

_I can't live_  
 _If living is without you_  
 _I can't live_  
 _I can't give anymore_  
 _I can't live_  
 _If living is without you_  
 _I can't give_  
 _I can't give anymore_

Bruce pressed his cheek against Tony's and kissed gently under his earlobe. He felt Tony shudder against him and push his nose into the curls above Bruce's ear. As the song began to fade away, they started to slow their pace until they were completely still. Bruce let go of his boyfriend, slowly sliding his hands to his hips as Tony moved his hands to Bruce's chest and abdomen. They looked at each other's eyes.

"Well... that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Tony asked fondly, laughter in his eyes. Bruce chuckled and rubbed Tony's hipbones with his thumbs.

"No, it wasn't," he replied, smiling. His very own genius smiled back, and only after that Bruce fully remembered where they actually were. He quickly glanced around and found some people still staring at them or occasionally peeking towards their direction. He looked back at Tony who wasn't minding it at all, still staring at Bruce. It made Bruce feel calm and he found that he didn't find the looks that unnerving anymore. They were but a distraction, which he was about to ignore.

"Shall we go look for our friends?" he requested then, turning but keeping his hand on the small of Tony's back.

"Yeah, sounds like fun," he answered as they made their way to a group of their friends.

 

* * *

 

Bruce pushed Tony so that he fell on the bed. Following right after, he went straight to the beautiful brunet's neck, licking and kissing while prying his tie off. Both were already out of breath and Tony kept unbuttoning Bruce's collar, as he had already dealt with the bowtie.

The whole trip back to Tony's had been all foreplay, to Bruce's mind at least – kissing and caressing and nipping – and they'd barely made their way to Tony's room. Luckily, as they should at this time of the night _(11:58 PM)_ everyone in the household (including Jarvis, since Tony'd texted him to go ahead and get some shuteye) was already asleep, so they hadn't had to see the whole ordeal.

Tony rolled them over, legs on either side of Bruce's abdomen and caught his lips in a fiery kiss. He was done unbuttoning Bruce's shirt and was now pulling his suit jacket off of Bruce's shoulders. As he threw the garment to the floor, he lowered his lips to Bruce's chin, his neck, collarbones and then chest. He kissed his right nipple while gently twisting the other, making Bruce moan, and then lowered himself even more, kneeling on the floor and kissing just under his bellybutton.

Then Tony turned his eyes to look at Bruce, wordlessly asking for a permission to continue. Bruce had been thinking when would be the appropriate time for their firsts, and had come to the conclusion that if it came down to it after prom, he would let it go on. Also, the look Tony was sending towards Bruce made him want to melt, so he pushed his fingers into the teenager's hair and said,

"I think we're ready."

Tony looked like a kid on a Christmas morning and quickly begun opening Bruce's fly. The light brushes his hands made in the process got Bruce hissing in bliss. He could only imagine what Tony's mouth would feel like. And imagining it got him balancing on the edge of coming already.

Tony had gotten the fly open and was now tugging at his boyfriend's boxers' waistband, so Bruce changed his position, leaning on his elbow to enjoy the view. The other hand was still tangled in Tony's hair. Tony looked straight into his eyes as he pulled the waistband down, exposing Bruce's throbbing member and Bruce had to suck in a few harsh breaths. He watched as Tony stuck his tongue out and licked a long stripe up his shaft, hands gripping the fabric on the front of Bruce's trousers tight. Bruce threw his head back with a loud moan and almost choked on it when Tony took him into his mouth. He clamped hard on Tony's hair as he started bobbing his head up and down.

The sensation was overwhelming, so Bruce moved into a sitting position, desperately trying to hold back the orgasm.

"Wait, Tony, wait," he panted, pulling Tony back by his hair. "I'm gonna come if you go on like that." Tony let go with a wet-sounding pop, craning his head to look up at Bruce and let out a brief chuckle.

"Isn't that the point, baby?" he asked with a devious smirk and pursed his lips to blow air towards Bruce's cock. Bruce moaned when the cool air hit his wet and dripping dick, and before he could stop it Tony was already taking him in his mouth again, slowly and sensually moving his head. In his haze, he noticed Tony moving even lower, swallowing the head of his cock as he went, and soon he had Bruce fully down his throat.

It felt _incredible._

Then Tony coughed faintly and Bruce was already pulling away.

"Tony! Can you breathe?" he asked, concerned. As an answer he got an irritated grunt from Tony and two hands gripping his hips to prevent him from moving. He shook his head determinately, Bruce's member halfway out of his mouth.

"You sure?" Bruce asked after a brief visual check on Tony's well-being. Tony nodded and begun moving lower again. Bruce let him.

Once he was again completely in, Bruce couldn't stop himself from thrusting into Tony's mouth. Tony seemed to approve though, as he hummed and moved along. The vibration made Bruce see stars and he thrust harder, remembering to pull away long enough for Tony to be able to breathe.

They kept going on like that, Bruce holding Tony tight by his hair and thrusting into his mouth rhythmically. He felt himself nearing, and he came with a loud moan when Tony begun swallowing around him. He collapsed to the bed behind him as the last wave of euphoria hit him, feeling way too good.

He felt the bed dip as Tony climbed up and opened his eyes. He found Tony staring at him, lust-ridden face and lips red from giving Bruce a head and panting. He was halfway on all fours, slightly shaking from arousal. The tight pants he was wearing were looking painfully uncomfortable around his groin. The sight made Bruce tense with lust.

He sprang up, gripping the back of Tony's neck tightly and kissing him hard. Tony was panting and outright whining in his arms, and he snuck his hands to open the front of his pants while kissing him. Then he lowered them, along with his briefs, unveiling Tony's aching cock and his magnificent ass. Tony gave a deep sigh and ached his back when Bruce dragged his hands over that ass, all the way up his back. Then he moved to the front, slowly removing his jacket, vest and dress shirt, kissing Tony the whole time as he shivered and removed Bruce's shirt in return.

Pushing Tony to his back, Bruce got up, quickly stripping him and himself from their pants and shoes and all the rest. Then he got back down, between Tony's legs and rubbed his again erect dick against Tony's.

"Bruce... Please, make me c-come!" Tony pleaded, already reduced into a whimpering mess. Bruce smirked and kissed the corner of Tony's mouth.

"What should I do, Tony?" he asked, circling Tony's nipples with his thumbs. Tony looked at him in the eye for a while, then grabbed Bruce's ass and brought him down, pushing against his hard-on. Bruce hissed in ecstasy. Tony used his other hand to pull Bruce's head down, craning his own neck to get his ear closer to his mouth.

"I want you to fuck me, Bruce," he whispered and Bruce almost lost it. He blinked for a bit to get his head straight.

"Got lube?" he asked. Tony smirked.

"First drawer on your left." Bruce turned and all but scrambled to Tony's nightstand, fishing out the bottle of lube and a condom. He turned back to see Tony, spreading his legs and looking from the bottle to Bruce's eyes. Bruce got the hint and poured a generous amount of the substance to his palm.

"Guide me?" he asked as he got between Tony's legs. Tony just flashed a crooked smile and extended his index finger to Bruce. Bruce poured some lube on it and Tony pushed it slowly into his entrance, moaning lewdly as he did. Then he started fucking himself with it, and Bruce felt hypnotized. He rubbed his hands together, warming and spreading the lube on his hands and stretched his hand to take Tony in his hand and moving the hand with alternating ways.

 _"AH!"_ Tony screamed, halting his finger before continuing his ministrations. Bruce watched Tony's face as he lowered himself and kissed the inner side of Tony's thigh. Next, he kissed Tony's cock, eliciting a groan after another. He kept lowering to his balls, then to the perineum and then to the spot where Tony's finger was working its magic. He kissed the whole area, provoking a greedy whine from Tony. He pushed a finger in, fucking into Tony the same rhythm as Tony's own was.

He slowly added fingers and stopped only when Tony told that it was enough. After making sure Tony really was ready, he climbed over him, leaning into his hands on either side of Tony's head. He tucked the condom on, spread the excess lube on, and kissed Tony as he eased himself in, pulling Tony's right leg over his left shoulder. Tony let out a series of muffled moans and cries, and Bruce separated his lips from Tony's when he was fully seated in Tony.

"Does it hurt?" he asked. Tony was staring at him with awe and bliss in his eyes, panting beneath him.

"No, you idiot, move already!" he answered, smiling and pulling Bruce back down for a kiss. Bruce did as he was told, beginning to push in and pulling out while kissing the guy he loved.

"Oh God," he panted between breaths. "Feels so good, Tony." Tony just laughed and moaned at the next thrust.

"Fuck, gimme more, Bruce," he slurred, kissing Bruce again. Bruce thrust even harder, making Tony scream and then begun sucking marks at his neck. He started stroking Tony when he felt himself nearing the edge again. Tony's moans turned more desperate and he dug his fingers into Bruce's back and pain mingled with pleasure in Bruce's mind.

They came almost at the same time, screaming each other's names into the darkness. Bruce's random thought before falling asleep was that he was glad that Tony's parents slept in a completely different part of the house.

 

* * *

 

The morning came, and Bruce woke up to a pair of brown eyes staring at him sleepily. He smiled at their owner.

"Morning," he said and rolled over to kiss Tony.

"Mrningh," came the muffled answer. Bruce hummed in amusement and hugged Tony tight against himself.

"That was amazing," Tony said after a while.

"Yes, it was," Bruce agreed, rubbing circles into the other's back. Tony smelled phenomenal and his brown hair was tousled in the most adorable way. A few hickeys were decorating his otherwise olive skin.

Tony nuzzled his face into the crook of Bruce's neck and Bruce wrapped his arms around him. They lied there in a comfortable silence for a while.

"Now that they know, how do you thinks things are going to go?" Bruce asked, carding his fingers through Tony's hair.

"We always have each other, so I think it's gonna go fine," Tony replied. Bruce hummed.

"And what about the future, when it's time to tell our parents?"

"Same." Bruce smiled.

"Right," he said, planting a kiss to Tony's hair.

And he believed it. He knew, that eventually everything would go just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!! ♥♥ :)


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